


This is Us Trying

by faithmanila



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: A Luthor and a Super working together, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Danvers Sisters, Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Smut, F/F, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, I am Supercorp Trash, Kara is a kryptonian vigillante but she is not supergirl yet, Lena Luthor Needs a Hug, Minor Samantha "Sam" Arias/Alex Danvers, Red Kryptonite Kara Danvers, SuperCorp, They should bang, ooc kara danvers because she is still reeling from red k, they will
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-28
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:54:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 100,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24977998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/faithmanila/pseuds/faithmanila
Summary: It’s not that she didn't heal from red kryptonite. It’s that no antidote could make her forget the truths that came with the influence. In other words, Kara hates everything. Kara hates inequity. She hates billionaires like it’s her job. But in the face of a looming global threat, Kara Danvers and Lena Luthor reluctantly team up.orKara and Lena find themselves fighting for the world, and for something else ;)
Relationships: Kara Danvers & Lena Luthor, Kara Danvers/Lena Luthor
Comments: 138
Kudos: 329





	1. Bathroom Breaks and Big Mistakes

**Author's Note:**

> I have never written fics before yet here we are. This is me trying?? (Yes the title is a nod to the new Taylor Swift album). This is also just me hoping you're in a good place. Twitter: chaoticvirgo2  
> 

It would take her six steps. Six steps to finally take some semblance of a shower. On a good day, it only takes three. Step one, park somewhere near enough to lookout, but not too near that super-speeding in and out of the car would register in the cameras. Step two, make sure no one’s inside the cubicles. Wait for the last person to finish whatever it is a highway stop toilet is good for. And finally, super speed into the toilet with dwindling supplies of fresh clothes, soap, shampoo, and detergent all tucked tightly in a dipper.

But today is not a good day. The last woman who walked in hasn’t come out. She couldn’t have needed all that time for make up. Not when she already looked the way she did—all glammed up but not like she’s off to a walk in the city. More like she’s off to threaten someone in a board meeting.

There’s no reason for Kara to use x-ray vision just yet. In fact, she expected the woman to take long because she looked to be in a hurry. Probably holding off a colossal dump. But it’s been twenty three minutes. That’s when it occurs to her that if the woman is not putting on makeup, defecating, or jacking off, she might be crying. God she hopes there’s no crying.

The last time she ran into a sobbing young man, Kara sat across him in companionable silence. Companionable silence just meant she got too distracted counting his strands of premature white hair. Helping people in secret was one thing, actually engaging them is another. Kara hasn’t learned in a long time what it means to be a comfort to anyone. Living in a car for three years after a run in with red kryptonite can do that.

She would not, however, be opposed to putting a hand on a stranger’s shoulder. On a good day, she might even smile. But she hasn’t showered in three days. She hardly sweats like humans do but come _on_. Kara groans. The woman better have a good reason for hogging the facilities. She’s not going to go another half hour without a shower.

Eyes closed, Kara zeroes in her senses on the women’s toilet. She lifts her lead lined glasses, not altogether taking it off. With super hearing no longer blocked, she expects sounds to flood in. Nothing comes. No rustling about. No breathing. The Kryptonian makes the decision right then. Enough time has passed for it to be valid to invade someone’s privacy anyway. She takes her glasses off to see through the wall. Lowering her gaze, she finds a figure crumpled on the cold tiles. Right. Humans. Humans do that sometimes.

With one last look around, she zips into the toilet and stops inches short of running over the woman. Her ridiculously smooth skin is pale, although Kara can tell she would still be pale under the most favourable of circumstances. There are still no signs of breathing. She takes her into a fireman's carry, as she tries to recall the plotting of security cameras in the city. She had it memorized long ago, but the all too faint heartbeat has shaken her. As soon as she gets a grip of her senses, she launches herself to a run that would no doubt break the sound barrier. Making sure the woman’s head is tucked securely on her chest, they zip past the freeway, past the makeshift houses built on top each other, past the hedge of buildings that line up as if it were a fortress against the stench of the outskirts, and into the emergency driveway of National City Hospital.

* * *

As gently as her impossible speed would allow, Kara lays the woman on the ground, and speeds to the nearest corner out of sight. At least she hopes it’s out of sight. The mayor couldn’t have installed a new camera here since she last circled this block, could he? For good measure, she listens closely for any whirring of small devices.

But the only humming of electric recording is coming from the CCTV at the ER driveway. She knows it couldn’t possibly have recorded her but it has definitely recorded the appearance of the woman’s limp lifeless form without precedent. Except perhaps for a blur. She has half a mind to tamper with the recordings when the nurses who have finally spotted the woman come rushing out.

Kara really has no business staying where she is. She can’t afford anyone spotting her. The darker corners of reddit that have observed inexplicable lifesaving phenomena call her The Blur for a reason: She practically doesn’t exist.  
But an overwhelming need to know if the woman will live roots her to the spot. She takes the CCTV-blind angle from behind a nearby column to watch as the nurses attend to the woman. She lays too still, losing even more color than Kara thought possible. There is no looking away as they perform CPR. She finds that she can’t.

Just as they cart her in, she hears the faint beginnings of a proper heart rate. She’ll live. She doesn’t know how she knows for sure. Just that she has to. Maybe it’s the guilt of having waited too long before coming for her. Her empathy for human fragility has sunk so low, she can barely even save one life. To think she once dreamt she could be their hero.

She withdraws from the column when the scene settles. The woman is inside. There’s a shower to get back to. Kara cannot be sure that she has not just exposed the fact that another kryptonian exists in the country. But she can still run. She sets herself to a return sprint no longer carrying anything, but still feeling somewhat heavier.

* * *

A no. 11 billiard ball catapults straight to Kara’s face. She catches it before anyone sees just how futile any attempt to hurt her can be. She throws it back to a woman with purple gills running down her neck but otherwise appears to be human. The woman freezes when she realizes who she just missed. Kara must be even more distinguishable with her usual mask and hood up.

“I- it was an accident,” the woman explains. “I was trying to hit Chester.”

Chester is a few feet to Kara’s left. His Dragaaian skin remains stubbornly pine green, giving away no signs of inebriation. If he weren’t slumped on the counter, and snoring, how drunk he is is anybody’s guess. Kara laughs. The woman visibly relaxes.

“You should join the olympics, Tamara. Your aim is phenomenal.”

“And so is your timing. Just short of thirty minutes late. You've kept the lady waiting.”

“I know.” She raises the blinking text on her pager to show Tamara. It nearly takes her entire hand to hold the device she built from scraps. “She’s getting used to me being late. Why break routine now?”

Tamara shrugs and turns back to her game of pool. Someone snorts from the other side of the bar. “When are you going to use a real phone?”

“Leave my pager alone, M’gann. You know better than to trust mobile networks and frequencies. Even the ones here.” M'gann shakes her head, pouring what's likely the last shot of tequila for a Saturnian sulking in the corner.

Kara walks past the bar to scan the room for Nia Nall. The Catco reporter has a habit of sitting in a different spot each time. It’s usually easy to sift through the crowd but tonight is Wormhole Night. It's the supposed anniversary for when the wormhole to the Milkyway galaxy opened up, responsible for many alien species finding refuge on earth. All alien liquor is on discount.

A man with suction cups for hands, shows off, holding several bottles of beer. She has seen him several times before but could not remember his name. The human hybrid Kara always thought was his boyfriend refused to indulge his ego. Before Kara can even laugh at that, a short man barrels past her, followed by a ball of fire, followed by a woman on a mission. She shakes her head. It's only Cyril and K’hala, the two infernians that have been sighted in the USA. For all their talk of world domination, they’re just silly twins, always on each others’ nerves.

Tamara, possibly getting just as drunk as Chester hurls another ball at a jeering man. He ducks, sending the ball once again in Kara’s trajectory. Even though the ball is within arms reach, she lets it bounce off the cork board before the bathroom hallway. She ignores the idiots, distracted by the note tacked among gig schedules and secretly coded ads. The eviction notice. Nobody knows why M’gann keeps it there. In fact, nobody knows why M’gann does what she does. Just that she’s lost far worse than a dive bar in the outskirts of a city. Kara shakes her head, noting that she’ll need to have a word with M’gann soon. Ever since the bar became her underground office, this too has become her concern—or was problem the word.

Judging by the ongoing behavior of her alien customers, it looks a lot like M’gann couldn’t care less if the building falls apart. She starts wondering why Catco couldn’t have picked a better night when she remembers that they probably don’t even know what Wormhole Night is.

As if the mere act of turning the corner allowed for more things to worry about, she finds someone she didn’t expect to see.

“You’re not Nia,” She greets. It was meant to hide her surprise.

“Sit.” Cat Grant tells her without looking up from her drink.

“To what do I owe this personal visit? Is Nia sick? Did Snapper finally realize a higher purpose than being a pain in the ass?”

“Do I need to tell you what will happen the next time you show up late?”

It’s likely an empty threat but Kara finally pulls the chair and sits. Only a handful of people scare Kara. She will never admit that Cat Grant is one of them.

“What can I do for you this time? Front page? Do you think Morgan Edge has a sixth mistress? Oh! Oh! Do you finally believe me when I say Veronica Sinclair faked her death?”

For a few seconds that feel entirely too long, Cat looks at her without moving a muscle, decidedly ignoring her taunts. “If you came here an hour earlier, then you would have received and finished the mission by now. Might have been willing to pay double.

“I see we’re finally calling them missions.”

“It’s more of an assignment, really, but you’re right about something. You do stalk people for a living. You’re not a licensed private detective, or any kind of detective. And you’re-

“And, I’m not a reporter,” Kara finishes for her, sounding a little more bitter than intended.

“And who’s fault is that? Some stupid hippie motto, ‘I don’t want to get paid for telling skewed versions of the truth.” Cat mocks Kara perfectly, down to her subtle small town accent.

“Well that’s impressive.”

“Don’t you take anything seriously?”

“I’m the one who wants to call these _missions_.”

“Listen. The only reason I’m not handing you over to the police is because you _have_ brought Catco its biggest stories as The Girl far better than you did as Kiera Danvers. Well, mostly off brand exposés, but we are once again on top of the game. That’s all thanks to you, but the day you decide to be useless is the day I decide to be... ungrateful.”

Kara swallows any attempt to correct her name’s pronunciation. She takes comfort in the fact that Cat’s actual idea of punishing Kara involves babysitting her son, not the police (Though when faced with the eight-year old, she'd wish Cat called the cops on her instead). She knows her former boss well enough. Still, the whole exchange reminds her too much of how things have changed.

She used to be nothing but a shadow who is one with the people. The people here, being the ones who have had to rely on unconventional means to survive living in one of the most corrupt, unjust, and xenophobic states in the country. In exchange for very little cost, she monitored the city’s security systems, stocks, and potential market demands. It started out with errands and monitoring for small, illegal or unlicensed businesses. Just as long as no weapons, children, and drugs were involved, Kara supported the black market.

Aliens gradually came to her, too. The ones with special abilities have either escaped to safer towns or have been captured by CADMUS. Refusing to register as alien citizens meant little access to jobs, little access to basic needs. All their movements had to involve stealth that only Kara has.

So she catered to them. It started with help in routing remnants and recreations of alien technology that even humans find useful. Eventually, it became more and more unclear what services Kara offered. No one knew what she looked like under the mask, or what skills she has that sets her apart. Just that she gets the job done.

People did talk about her. They had to. But with no clear delineation of tasks, signature trails and no distinct physical traits other than her lithe frame and golden mane, they've taken to calling her The Girl. She decided not to mind the assumption because she needed all the unpaid brand work she could get anyway.

A few times, Kara teamed up with her only friend, Winn Schott who happened to be fired from Catco months following her own resignation. They broke into health insurance systems and government data mines. The idea sparked from when she started buying potstickers from Dimsum Central wearing her mask. She had been to Guangzhou enough times to understand the exchanges between the owner and the scrawny boy who served the hefty takeouts to her. He was no doubt their son.

It must’ve taken him a few more nights to admit that he recognized her mask, and that he needs a favor from her. Favors weren't exactly Kara's choice of currency, but something about the way his parents spoke to him made her stay to listen. As a joke, he offered a year’s worth of potstickers if she can manage to delete his student loans. Offended that he sounded doubtful of her skills, Kara took it as a challenge.

She proceeded to erase his student loans and the rest of his family’s debts as well. It was just in good humor when she told him she deserves a hell of a lot more than a year’s worth of potstickers, but the boy only nodded frantically and opened an unlimited tab for her.

It didn't take long before her commitment to National City eclipsed her side trips to larger secret missions. She took care of the people under the pretense of doing it for the money. But they knew her better than that. To them, she was their keeper.

However, the more diverse aliens Kara encountered as The Girl, the more convinced she was that CADMUS will return. Jeremiah will return. The unconventional barter may have worked perfectly for over a year. It could’ve been enough to live off of if she didn’t become obsessed with trying to build tools and anti-Kryptonite devices in constant anticipation. But she did.

So when the police caught whiff of her services and offered to commission her, she convinced herself the money would be worth it. What the people didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them. It was just to find missing persons and to intercept narcotic operations anyway. It didn’t matter that the police took all the credit and made the mayor look better. It only mattered that the city is to some degree safer, and that she can afford to prepare against the world’s largest anti-alien project.

For as long as the dual allegiance held, Kara remained the state’s keeper as much as she was the people’s. All that changed the day that news of The Girl’s partnership with the police, the very institution that the people distrust the most spread like wildfire. She got less and less commissions from human and alien civilians alike. They began to think that she’s capable of handing them over if the cops so much as offer her the right price.

To rebuild that trust, she broke relations with the police force, dissolved her communication system, and relocated to M’gann’s. She thought perhaps her constant appearance in their turf would remind them of her true allegiance. It’s not difficult to imagine how well that went. Thankfully, the bar is home to the most unconventional of crowds even in alien standards, or she would scare customers away. M’gann would have had to kick her out otherwise.

With the eviction notice, it’s only a matter of time. Not only will she be The Girl on the run from the police who covet her expertise. She is also bound to be The Girl with no people, no family, and no place in National City.

It didn’t help that the minute some dweeb managed to get a photograph of her as the masked blonde, Cat put two and two together. She has clearly kept her conclusions to herself as leverage.

Now, she can do nothing but shrink under Cat Grant’s unwavering demand. The idea of testing the woman's threats still scares her.

“Take this, Kiera.” She said. Her urgent voice pulls Kara away from bitter memories. “And take this seriously. We both know I’m your only source of income these days,” Cat adds.

“Well I’m about to win an Animal Crossing bet with a Valerian so you might want to rethink that.”

Cat just stares at her.

"Kidding. I'm kidding," Kara says. She opens the envelope to find a wad of cash and sighs, finally losing interest in being difficult. Her client pool _has_ recently been shallow. When she looks up from the fresh bills, she sees well manicured fingers pressing down a thick piece of paper. As Kara watches it being slid towards her, she wonders if this is the reason Cat Grant had to deliver the job in person—dramatics. The sound of the paper grating on the table suggests that it's a photograph.

“Your next mission.”

Kara smiles and puts her hands together as if she’s being handed candy. She opens her mouth to quote a movie, but she catches Cat’s eyes. Clearing her throat, she takes the sheet and flips it to find black hair, distracted green eyes, and pale skin. She frowns, knowing she should’ve already recognized the woman, but the name at the bottom of the photo jars her—Lena Luthor. Images of Kal’s limp form, of Lex’s maniacal laughter, and of fresh blood rush to her mind before the obvious thoughts could.

Before she could wonder why she’s never heard of Lex’s sister, a single, piercing thought hits. It’s her. The woman she carried in her arms just hours ago is the only living Luthor left.

In need of more answers than Cat Grant would ever have the use for, Kara looks up. _What specific angle is she coming from? What exactly needs to be investigated?_

But the Catco editor-in-chief has already walked out of the bar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this as much as I enjoyed writing it and its succeeding chapters. I know The CW budget can't allow for a more colorful and realistic presence of aliens so I'm trying to make this fic more inclusive. I hope you don't mind that much liberty in my writing. Also, I love Cat Grant! Though, she might be more morally dubious in my fic. We're seeing Alex Danvers in the next chapter! Just know we'll be focusing more on Kara and Lena because this is a supercorp story after all. Just in case I lack motivation or get swamped at work, I have loosely written chapters in advance. Nonetheless, comments can keep me writing. The world has enough problems, let's all be kind (lol i really am just too soft). If you want to ask questions or reach out, just comment here or DM me! I'm chaoticvirgo2 on Twitter. I'd take expletives I guess. But srsly, it's always nice to connect with those who share my love for these characters. ok I'll stop talking now


	2. Family Affairs and Solar Flares

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mostly Lena and Kara’s backgrounds before they finally cross paths in this chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again! I hope you're doing okay?  
> Apologies in advance for typos and grammatical errors.  
> Twitter: chaoticvirgo2

A year ago, there were bodies and bodies of freshwater she could run to for a bath. But with the kryptonite poisoning courtesy of Lex Luthor, it became harder and harder to tell which ones won’t kill her. Kara couldn’t keep flying to another continent just for a bath. The worst part is that the culprit is dead. There’s no one to yeet off the planet for forcing her to bathe in freeway stops and gym toilets.

The wretched man didn’t even mean it for her. She doesn’t exist yet. Or at least nobody’s figured out who’s been putting out the fires Superman couldn’t be bothered with.

Lex Luthor was too obsessed with Clark Kent to make a prey out of anyone else. Anyone else was just collateral damage. His obsession with one man really wasn’t so bad until collateral damage didn’t matter to him. Of course on Earth, everything just _had_ to be about a man. Lex Luthor managed to make everything about him even from the grave. If Lena weren’t his sister, Catco would take no interest in her at all. Kara was sure of it and hates that Cat Grant of all people would play into this narrative.

As much as Kara would refuse to make this job about the sociopathic brother, she spent hours scavenging from tangents and loose ends left by Lex. There isn’t anyone to actually tail, because Lena as it turns out, is still in the hospital she left her in. There aren’t and were never any known social media accounts. All Kara’s gathered is that Lena graduated at the top of her class in MIT, has 2 PHDs, and judging from the only other photo she could find, possibly owns 3 cats. She looked much younger, wore a baseball cap, and hugged a huge sack of cat food that’s at least 30 kilograms.

In tracing Luthor Corp’s social media user addresses, Kara was met with firewalls and encryption beyond her hacking skills. What could LCorp be hiding for it to spend way more resources on security than Amazon does? She might have to call in another favor from Catco’s former IT guy. She’s not even sure why Cat bothers with her when they had Winn Schott to penetrate every secret operation yet unknown. Kara makes a mental note to ask, no, threaten Winn into finally telling her why Catco fired him. A smile plays on her lips just at the thought of Winn’s face of terror. That would have to wait. The first order of business now that Cat has paid her in advance is to get fuel. Fuel for her body that is.

With a box of donuts in hand, she steps out of Mc Grady’s still wearing her face mask and hood up. She pops the lid open and is about to shove a blueberry crumble into her mouth when she hears it. A harsh whisper calling to her. It made no sense for anyone from 3 miles away to call when they know she can’t possibly hear them. Unless…

“Kal-el?”

“Kara!” She looks around expecting him to zip by the corner any second now. He doesn’t.

“Where are you?”

“Kara, can you hear me?”

“I guess?” She shouts just as the truth settles on her uncomfortably. “But it seems like you can’t,” she says more to herself.

“Kara!” 

She whirls around, trying to plot the fastest, most imperceptible course. He didn’t sound good. Not good at all.

“Right, you can’t hear me. Well, I’m coming!”

She bolts before she realizes what his location meant. She skids to a stop finding herself in the outskirts of the city. Besides stopping crime, What could her cousin possibly be doing in supposedly the country’s 7th most criminally dangerous place? Or at least that’s what they say in the papers. Kara has always known better but now is not the time to wonder if Kal finally does.

The sound of shallow breathing pilots her steps almost subconsciously. She halts only at the sight of him. When Kal sees her, too, he immediately limps- _limps?-_ towards her. 

“Thank god. I thought you’d left the city.”

“Why couldn’t you hear me? Age finally catching up?”

“Were those supposed to be for me?” Kal points at the sad, ruined box Kara was clutching. Only one of the donuts remained, its purple icing slightly disarranged. In her rush to heed his call, she apparently left the lid open.

“Great. This is great.”

The cousins just stand there throwing glances at each other, neither having grown up enough to communicate like adults, much less to each other.

Kal sighs. “I saw some bins on 3rd street on my way here. It has one for biodegradable.”

Kara almost lets him see her smile at that. At least he still remembers who she is. She zips away thankful for an excuse to breathe. When she returns with only the surviving donut in hand, Clark must’ve tried to muster some courage to get around to whatever he came for. She buys him more time by taking her first bite of blueberry cream. Chewing slowly in relative silence doesn’t really help matters. Kara is still the first to speak.

“You didn’t really come here to visit me, did you?”

“No, I would’ve called.

“Paged, you mean. I told you I don’t have a phone.”

“Right. Page. Anyway, I couldn’t hear you because well, you know how solar flares are.”

“That’s great. Metropolis could use a break from their favorite man child in tights.”

“Why are you- Kara…” He takes a step back, suddenly growing cautious. “I- Has the Red Kryptonite not worn out yet?”

“It has,” she says, wincing at the memory. “But the years have nothing on what I saw. You know that.”

Kal might have already let his guard down, but he doesn’t look any less scared of her. Scared and, well, sad.

“Yeah, I guess that’s why I gave you Kelly’s number. I take it you haven’t been in touch?”

Kara has to scoff at that because she doesn’t need to trouble yet another human being minding their own business.

Kal lets her forage her memories in silence, seeming not to let his impulse to make excuses get the better of him. It looks like it’s taking everything in Superman to not speak. Despite her spiralling thoughts, she’s grounded by the urge to laugh at that. Maybe he’s grown up a little bit. Maybe she’s the one trying not to see it.

 _Or maybe he’s just grown tired of reasoning with me_.

Kara sighs at the invasive but unsurprising thought. It looks like today is not the day. The poison, wherever it is that it keeps coming from, has already spoiled any attempt to see light. It’s not even noon yet.

“I’m never getting better, Kal. The cure, it was able to take all of it away, except for more truths than I can handle.” She lets that settle. Kal shouldn’t even be taking forever to understand. He’s the one who taught her to distrust in the first place. He owes her at least that.

“Truths,” he says, simply. There’s a question somewhere in it.

“I know for instance that you are a good person, but you have more in common with Lex than you think.”

“You don’t mean that, Kara.”

It was, perhaps, for effect, but Kal is looking smaller by the minute. She wonders what kind of favor he needs or what kind of trouble she has to pull him out of this time. Biting back a barrage of insults, she releases a sigh of truce instead.

“It doesn’t matter anymore whether I mean it or not, Kal- or Clark- or whoever it is you say you are.”

She means to ask what he needs, but a nagging sound keeps interrupting her train of thought. Can’t the police have chosen a better siren tone? She knows Kal’s busted ears can’t hear it, but she couldn’t help tuning in. It’s too late to look unaffected. Kal must’ve seen through her and is now tilting his head in question.

“It’s fine. It’s just a robbery.”

“What do you mean it’s just a robbery? Aren’t you going to get that? They’re stealing money from your people.”

“Serves them right. Just some good old classic wealth redistribution.”

“Kara, they’re not redistributing _that_ wealth.”

She stops chewing the donut. “Well look at you finally catching on.” She hates it when he’s right. “Wait here.”

Less than a minute later Kara is back in the alley carrying two men by their joined torsos. Both are unconscious but barely bruised.

“Wait, you-you’re letting them get away?”

“Oh come on, Kal. You do know that incarceration only serves the ones on top, right? If these idiots land in jail, will that stop robberies from happening? Will the hungry finally stop being hungry?”

Kal only winces.

“You’re in pain.” 

“I told you I blew out my powers. You weren’t listening.”

“I told you not to interrupt me when I’m eating donuts and you weren’t listening. Guess we’re even.”

“I don’t think that’s how it works-”

“They’re bad guys, I know!”

Kal-el suddenly seems much smaller than his supposedly towering frame. She must’ve yelled.

“But they’re not _The_ Bad Guys.” She eyes his limp figure, but instead of drawing out questions and sympathies, the image of a vulnerable superman draws something close to bile to the surface. It leaves a bad taste in her mouth, and if she doesn’t speak she’d be stuck with it. “Getting beaten by one should’ve taught you that.”

When Kal _still_ doesn’t interrupt her to declare why he’s in National City, Kara just keeps going.

“Look, I know you enjoy being the man of the hour or days or whatever, but would it hurt to give the real issues some attention? What good is stopping big, occasionally bad metahumans if the rich are still getting richer? If water and electricity are still privatized? If we still keep piling on carbon footprint?” Kara is tired of this same circle of argument with Kal, but she still paces, driven by a momentum reserved for a more pressing time. The perps mounted on her shoulders swing loosely as she paces.

“These are problems you can solve with your powers. Instead, you played chicken with Lex Luthor. You nab rogue aliens you never took a chance to know. You sign fan mail, and buy the rights to your own merchandise. You have your own movies. Jesus, Kal it’s a 7-part franchise. And it stars… _you_?” Even as she argues, she can see the flaw in her argument.

She is a hypocrite who has not done enough. But she keeps going. She keeps going because stopping means her resistance means nothing. It means everything she gave up on was for nothing. It was in the middle of this mental sparring that she wonders why Kal hasn’t interrupted her with his practiced excuses. She turns and sees that he’s curled on the floor, his right hand clutching his rib.

She drops the perpetrators, making it to Kal’s side before they could even hit the ground.

“Hey. Kal.” Kara shakes his shoulders to wake her up but there’s nothing. “Come on. I was just kidding.” He doesn’t budge, but his heart is still beating. “Ok, half kidding.” His hair rests lazily on his forehead. She flicks it away, an automatic movement from when she was twelve. An unconscious Kal reminds her of the infant she once cradled. The one who slept through all the loud noises she made while tinkering in Astra’s lab. It has always been her job to keep him safe. She blinks at the memories from before Kal-el grew up to abandon her. 

Still, she takes his hand away from his side, and pulls up his shirt. Her cousin has done a bad job of bandaging what appears to be a severe injury. She takes the flimsy bandage off. A wound too clean to be anything but deliberately targeted pronounces his lower rib. The skin around it is starting to bruise.

“Why didn’t you lead with this?” Internally, Kara curses herself more for not even asking if he’s okay. He was obviously in pain. Has she really lost her empathy? And then she curses herself even more for making this about her.

She mounts him easily on her shoulders, hesitating only for a moment. There’s only one thing that can pierce the man of steel. And there’s only one place that can make it go away. An injured Superman wouldn’t have come to National City if he didn’t know that. Kara hangs her head and closes her eyes.

“You better wake up, Kal. You owe me a box of donuts.”

* * *

She had paged Alex ahead. Her sister knows enough of their situation to know that Kara would never ping unless it’s an emergency. Her team was immediately deployed to retrieve Kal from the back entrance of the building. All Kara had to do was to pretend to need help hauling the big guy. Once she slowed around the unsurveilled corner, she laid him on the ground and called out to them.

Somewhere in their quick, calculated rescue, they had given each other funny looks. She lets herself briefly wonder if that meant what she thinks it meant. That they’re relieved, but unsurprised to see her again after years of not showing up.

This isn’t how she imagined what would happen to drag her back to the familiar top security premises. She didn’t expect that it would be the one to derail her lead on Lena Luthor. Not that she had much in the way of leads.

The DEO still has the best view of the city. Kara stands by the window, remembering more about the headquarters than just the view. She spent an appalling amount of her last teenage years signing NDAs. It wasn’t her fault her sister’s secret missions were too easy to stumble into. But by the looks on the agents’ faces, they probably remember more about their amusement than the inconvenience.

Without turning, Kara finally addresses Alex, “Will you quit watching me like a venus fly trap and just tell me what’s going on?” She hears her slowing to a halt and clearing her throat. “I can hear your footsteps and your heartbeat-

“Kara, no.” Alex Danvers says firmly. She’s immediately by Kara’s side, taking her by the arm and nearly dragging her away from prying ears. All the while, Alex leans in with sharp whispers. “Why would you say that out loud?”

“You’re not exactly being subtle right now either.”

Once inside the utility room, Alex faces her with arms raised to stop Kara from interrupting.

“I know you hate me,” Alex starts. “But please just trust me when I tell you not to give away the fact that you’re a” Alex gestures to Kara’s figure. “Especially not in the DEO. Not when they still have kryptonite.” The words have gotten out clearly before Alex could have thought of them. “You know, just in case,” she adds.

“Remind me again why I shouldn’t hate you, _Director_ Danvers?”

Alex recoils, but only slightly. She has no doubt caught something else in Kara’s tone. To be fair, Kara is a little more amused than vexed. If she weren’t here because her alien cousin was stabbed, this family reunion would go better. But because the universe doesn’t give a shit about anyone, they’re here skirting around hair-trigger mines.

“Kal- _Superman_ was stabbed,” Kara says, walking to the other end of the small room and back. “Things are bad. Bad enough for him to come see me. I mean, he hates my guts, yet he blew up his remaining powers to come here and call out for me like a cat looking for its mom.” She stops pacing and turns to Alex. “CADMUS is back aren’t they?”

“Clark doesn’t hate you. He can’t.”

“And you would know what it takes to hate me?”

If this were a dig from anyone else challenging her, Alex would pulverize their will with a single look. But it’s Kara. And Kara, she has a fleeting thought that Alex is probably crossing her arms right now to keep her hugging instincts at bay. She simultaneously grates and softens at how Alex seems to think it’s _still_ her job to cushion her from painful realities.

Even now, when she has all but easily fallen into the pattern of orchestrating contempt. She hates how much Alex always knows it for the mere mechanism that it is. That should be enough to make Kara stop. Still, she will see. She’ll see how long Alex will last before giving up this time.

“It _was_ a Kryptonian weapon,” Alex says. “It’s made to shoot kryptonite bullets with precision. You were right.”

“I’m always right. Except for that one time I thought I was wrong, but wasn’t.”

Alex smiles tentatively at that. “Clark- Kal is going to be okay, you know.”

“Seriously, where are they _still_ getting Kryptonite? Lex is dead.”

“Lex has a sister.”

“Right.” Her new subject was all over the news this morning. Just as Kara feared, a security footage shows the Luthor appearing almost out of thin air in the Emergency Driveway.

“You wouldn’t happen to have anything to do with her getting to the hospital, would you?”

“You wouldn’t happen to have anything to do with her almost dying, would you?”

Alex looks at her, as if finally seeing her. “If we wanted her dead, she’d be dead by now. Besides, that’s Metropolis business.”

“I heard she’s been staying in National City.”

Alex balks, as if troubled by something else. It must be taking a lot to hold Kara’s gaze but she finally does.

“You know what’s also here to stay?”

To her surprise, not just Alex’s, Kara sighs in relief. It is perhaps the single most terrifying news they’ve ever had to anticipate, yet Rao knows how much she has wanted Alex to finally break it. “So CADMUS _is_ back? What are they doing here?”

“Definitely not to get you. Dad already took care of that.”

“How would you know?”

“Kara, he went after the CADMUS agent who accidentally discovered you’re a- you’re a-

“You can say genius, Alex.”

Alex smiles, but again, has trouble holding the moment.

“If dad failed to stop the agent, they would’ve already come for you ten years ago.”

“And you don’t want to believe it could’ve been for nothing,” Kara voices out for Alex. “If he didn’t succeed, our family would’ve gone through the trouble of losing each other only for CADMUS to come for me anyway.”

“Kara, you didn’t lose me.”

But the sentiment lands about as well as a bird against imperceptible glass. “I probably deserve all the ways in which you tried to, Alex. I only took dad away didn’t I?”

There is no anger in her voice. There could be no anger for anyone else but herself. This anger and this delicate brand of fear she’s never gotten used to. To put it simply, frustrated is what she is. If Alex can see her for the fraud that she is, why can’t she admit that her life would’ve been and will undoubtedly be better if Kara never found her way to earth?

“You didn’t take dad away.”

“But he wouldn't have had to go after CADMUS if I weren’t alien. Isn’t that why you resented my powers, why you resented _me_?” 

Kara knows she’s being a dramatic pain in the ass, Rao does she know, but she just can’t get her foot on the brakes. This feeling she gets from testing how long it takes before someone gives up on her has become like her own personal drug. And yet she has the audacity to get hurt when they actually do give up. For that she hates herself a little more.

“I can never resent you, Kara. Let me help you. The red kryptonite-

“The red kryptonite only did what it does. I’m not going to tell you that everything you said and did didn’t hurt me. What I’m saying is that you’re right. Somehow you’re right. I can’t be the hero anyone would need. Look at me. Look at us. Look at the mess I’ve made in the outskirts without even taking up the mantle.”

“I never said you shouldn’t be a hero.”

“Well maybe you should have.” Kara says with finality, no longer keen on proving a point or arguing.

“Kara, listen. I know I haven’t been the best sister-

“You keep saying that. It makes less sense to say it each time.”

“Kara I-”

Alex stops herself. Kara knows this look. It’s the precedent to when Alex undoes what she’s tried and tried and tried. A simple sigh, a quick shake of her head or noncommittal variants of _“_ call me”—What would it be this time around? Whatever it was, it would no doubt be punctuated with the same undercurrent of resentment that she would never admit to.

But when Alex speaks, her voice is full of everything but that.

“You should come live with me,” Alex says. It is so wildly different from what Kara expected that she waits for her to repeat it. Just to make sure her super hearing is in pristine condition and that she hadn’t just misheard. But she isn't about to ask. And Alex isn’t about to repeat herself. If anything, she misinterprets the heart of Kara’s shock.

“You don’t even have to get a human job for appearances. You can do whatever it is The Girl, or well, The Blur still does these days.”

It looks as if Alex is riding her relief, relief from finally saying this out loud. Maybe it’s a proposition made only because of the looming threat to Kara’s safety. Kal-el’s fisticuff with death is proof of that danger. But it’s clear she must’ve been gearing herself to ask this long before today.

“Plus, you can still use the van if you’re so obsessed with it. I just- I don’t think dad would’ve liked how you’ve customized it.”

She wants to hate this moment. It presumes that the void between the sisters is caused only by the lack of time spent together. It means Alex has never truly given up, and if this doesn’t work, where will that leave them?

Neither of them are still the same person from when they last saw eye to eye. Still, she is the same Alex that would not speak to her for days after Kara had stolen her jar of cookies, yet in the same week would bake a new tray for them to share wordlessly. Despite herself, Kara warms at the idea. 

“Oh come on, Director Danvers. We both know Jeremiah would’ve loved what I’ve done with Streaky.”

“You’re probably right. Dad would've loved it. But Kara, did you name the van after your- your cat?"

" _Our_ cat, you mean."

"Yeah, well, may he be resting in peace."

For the first time, they both smile at each other.

Kara lets them have this moment. CADMUS is coming. Lena Luthor may or may not be up to something. It’s only a matter of time before their lives are thrown in the line of fire again. Almost at the same time, they sigh with the weight of things unsaid.

Finally Alex clears her throat, keenly determined but not for the reasons Kara needed her to be.

“If CADMUS really is back, I think it has more to do with Lena Luthor settling in National City than it does with either of us. Please, Kara. I know you’ll do whatever you set your heart to regardless of what I say. But stay out of it.”

She doesn’t nod. Kara may have changed a lot, but she is still a bad liar. So she doesn’t say anything that might give her away. It doesn’t escape her though, that she has not made any progress yet with her job to snoop around. She finds a pile of duct tape to fix her gaze on while pretending to be distracted by thoughts other than Lena Luthor. 

“Just… Just take care of my cousin. And make sure he doesn’t get back out there without clearance. He’s an idiot, that one. Runs in the family. Also, tell him he owes me a donut,” she jests on her way out. 

She turns to give Alex a last glance, just quick enough to see that her sister doesn’t find any of what she said funny.

* * *

The flight to National City was fraught with turbulence. Besides stalling the Lcorp contracts she meant to review on the plane, it egged on her sense of foreboding. She was only supposed to be keeping one child from trouble, but Lena manages to find it almost as easily as Ruby does.

Sam doesn’t mind the responsibility. It just never gets less terrifying when it’s for someone who doesn’t care enough about her own well being. Nevertheless, she’s always felt responsible for Lena. Not because of pity or anything like it, but simply because old habits die hard.

In science, it is the power of repetition that people underestimate the most. Sam and Lena would know better than to make that mistake. The variables were not however as observable when the variables were themselves. It was only natural that they’ve become friends even before they could avoid it.

It began with obligatory interactions here and there, perhaps rote pleasantries if nothing else. In grad school labs, you can only avoid so much human interaction. One day, science presented something so impossible that one of them had no choice but to ask the other for help. Then came the awkward back and forths of “Oh no, you didn’t have to.”

To both of them, indebtedness was more comfortable than friendship, so they developed a pattern of IOUs. It held up for a while, but not for long. Not really. The transactional nature of their partnership soon felt more criminal than the shame of needing help.

The beauty of repetition is that you can theorize all you want about results that present themselves over and over again and still come up short. You can pull the hard facts and graph the exact moments when something changes, but you can never know for sure how much influence one moment had on another. Take complete trust for instance. It may have come right after breakthroughs and big moments, but maybe it was built on something as simple as the habit of bringing each other lunch. Nothing’s for certain. Just that before they knew it, they'd been looking out for each other for years.

If you’re lucky, what happens when you get used to something is you just wake up one day unable to deny that you’re family in everything but name. They were both lucky.

As every lucky family is bound to do, theirs grew. One day, Jack Spheer unwittingly squeezed himself in with a proposition to improve their nanobots. They were taken more by his charming earnestness and his convictions than his technical upgrades, really. The lack of self-importance did nothing to abate his boyish charm. How could it when he went on and on about how science, even when for the greater good, has ethical boundaries? _Especially_ when they’re for the greater good, he had added.

Jack was a rare man, and Sam and Lena knew it. There was nothing groundbreaking or especially clever about his blueprints, but they didn’t have the heart to reject his earnest work. They asked him, instead, to come back with a detailed roadmap of how they can build nanobots from cheaper, ethical resources. That way, its medical uses can benefit the poor.

The man returned with what they asked and so much more. He delivered, where most men are bound to fail. For years, they counted on each other even outside their projects. When Sam became pregnant with Ruby, the last addition to their little family, both Jack and Lena stepped up. She could be bitter all she wanted about Ruby’s unsupportive biological father and her own adoptive parents, but there just wasn’t room for that.

Her new family filled the void and stayed with her every step of the way.

And then Jack died. It was a blow that did not tear them apart but made it harder for each of them to form new connections. Not even a month after that, Lena lost Lex. It was neither an accident nor a murder. It was a slow and torturous loss that began the moment Lex chose power over life.

And all Sam could do was watch. All she could do was to repeat to Lena over and over again that none of this was her fault. Her best friend tried to assure her that she was trying. She went to therapy regularly. She engaged herself in matters that meant the world to her. The law of repetition, if Sam ever saw one, would say that Lena will turn out alright.

It was the little changes, though, that worried her. Lena keeps forgetting to eat. And if before, her inventions for the underprivileged were to be considered passionate, now, she seems a little too obsessed. Like she’s running out of time. And the most painful of all was how there’s far less life in her interactions with Ruby.

She would perk up hearing about Ruby’s day or her new ideas, but Lena would share very little of herself. Gone were stories of her own rebellious bouts from childhood. That would have been understandable given the relation to Lex, but then all her stories about people she met in her travels, and the world history of coffee that changed in each of her retelling—they were gone, too. If memory serves Sam right, she could still picture Lena on the sidelines of Ruby’s football game lecturing the referee on why his verdict was unfair. She hasn’t seen that Lena in a long time.

Sam missed her best friend, but most of all, she misses what Lena was for Ruby. She already lost her Uncle Jack. She doesn’t know how to assure her child that she’s not losing Lena, too. At least not like that.

Lena went to National City to start L Corp there and to follow her lead on particular assets. These were all large scale projects that warranted a big move. Still, Sam wonders if these big ventures themselves were perhaps what the little changes snowballed into. She’s no psychologist, but she has trained all her life to recognize patterns. And what it led her to realize has long unsettled her.

For starters, Lena fainting in a public toilet isn’t exactly something anyone can take as a good sign. Maybe she should assign Jess to National city. If Lena won’t accept sense from her best friend and business partner, maybe she’d accept sense from her executive assistant. Sam finds it in her, at least to be amused at how much of a child Lena is. Only because today reminded her of how worried she was about Ruby making new friends on her first day of school in Metropolis. She finds that she feels not so differently about Lena moving to a new city.

The city hospital’s waiting room isn’t exactly the best working environment but it had to do. Because _someone_ decided to work themself to fatigue, Sam ended up here, forced to squeeze in some work. Thoughts about how Lena ended up here in the first place distracts her sporadically throughout the last batch of contracts. Having had enough, she shuts her laptop and allows herself some time with her theories. Could they be right about The Blur being in this city? A surge of excitement hits her when she thinks about how and when she’ll break her little discovery to Lena. If she’s being a little honest, it’s a relief there’s at least something they can look forward to together.

“Ms. Arias?” A nurse pokes her head out from the room. She doesn’t bother to step out to address her. “Ms. Samantha Arias?”

“Yes, that’s me.” Sam stands up, tugging her luggage along not so silently. She doesn’t know how long she’ll have to stick around but she packed enough for a week just in case. She silently prays that Ruby isn’t driving the help nuts. She’ll have to check the surveillance footage tonight.

“You can come visit Ms. Luthor now,” the nurse says, looking as if she’s done with the world. She doesn’t blame her. Lena has no doubt been giving her a hard time.

* * *

“Sam?”

Lena must’ve just woken up, or her hydration meds have gotten her feeling funny. She _does_ look a little funny. She tells her as much.

And Lena takes it as well as expected.

“What are you doing here?”

“It’s your first month here and you’ve already missed meals, overworked yourself, and will no doubt jump to action the moment they discharge you,” Sam says, dropping her bag on the visitor’s chair. “I wonder why else I would fly here.”

“Sam, you shouldn’t have.”

“It’s alright. Jess and Waller are holding the fort.”

“But- but what about the cats?”

“What do you mean ‘what about the cats’? You haven’t even asked about me _or_ Ruby.”

Lena laughs and doesn’t even bother to correct herself. Her dimpled smile makes Sam once again furious at how little the world knows about how cheeky this woman really is—At how most of the press, including the most reputable of sources, were only willing to pounce on the reckoning that she may or may not turn out to be like Lex.

* * *

“Lena, I came here to make sure you stay rested.”

“I’m not at work, am I?”

She's not. They're at Lena's apartment, which still looks very much unoccupied.

“No, but you’re unpacking.”

“But you complained the minute we got here about how I still haven’t gotten around to unpacking.”

“Yes, I did complain. Rightly so. I bet you’ve unpacked your lab first.”

Lena makes a show of busying herself with some bubble wrap.

“Wait, you’re really done with the lab? You- you set up an entire lab before unpacking your own personal belongings? Lena,” Sam chastises, though she knows she doesn’t sound the least bit authoritative to her friend. “You’re really not helping your case.”

“I had help from Jack’s old team, okay. They hid the shipments with nanoflage, and did most of the heavy lifting.”

“Most?”

“I couldn’t just stand there.”

“And what is Nanoflage? Is that-

“Oh, before I forget, which I kinda did had you not bullied me into talking about my lab, can we patent that?”

“Uh, sure” she takes out one of her two phones for LCorp to send a quick email to Jess.

After having derailed her, Lena moves on with the unwrapping. Sam lets her enjoy a few moments of rhythmically ripping off the tape before starting on her again.

“Lena?”

“Yep?”

“Do you really have no ability whatsoever to do… nothing?”

In a predictable act of defiance, Lena rips the last strip of tape from the box, takes it by the flap and drags it to a corner where she won’t have to face Sam.

“Don’t make me call Jess.”

“You wouldn’t.” 

“No, you’re right. I wouldn’t. I’m not about to be on the phone with Jess. She _is_ kinda scary.”

“Scarily efficient, too.”

By now, Lena is making her way to her second box.

“Lena, please, just sit here. I just want to have dinner with my best friend.”

“The dinner is pizza.”

“It’s vegan pizza.”

Lena smiles wistfully, her mind probably pulling out the same memory.

“As long as you didn’t make it.”

Sam watches as Lena steps over a few boxes to join her on the couch. It’s the only piece of furniture, apart from her bed, that she had managed to unbox. Sam waits for her to finish one whole slice and half a glass of water before making her opening.

“Lena, I found something about a week ago.”

“You found what?”

“Yes, I didn’t want to tell you yet until I could confirm it.”

“Confirm what?”

“And you were already too busy with the transitions at your new HQ.”

“Too busy for what?”

“I didn’t want to-

“Sam,” Lena all but begs.

“The Blur,” Sam blurts out. “I found something on The Blur.” She curses herself for not waiting until Lena has had at least three slices. As expected, Lena lets go of her second piece to focus on giving Sam a stern glare.

“You don’t really have to help me find them, Sam. I already placed the burden of Lcorp in your hands. Your free time should be all about Ruby.”

“Oh come on, you know my daughter and I both have a personal stake in this. I need to find The Blur almost as much as you do.”

Lena sighs. She finally picks up the slice and chews a little slower than expected. She’s probably using that time to think this over.

“Okay,” Lena says, her mouth still working on food. “What is it then? What did you find?

Immediately, Sam abandons her own slice. She fully angles her body to Lena, careful that she won’t run her sentences over each other. “Remember Kara Danvers?

“Who?”

“Oh stop it, Lena, we both know you’re updated with your crush.”

“Sam, I’ve never even met her.”

“And you already can’t stop talking about her.”

“Well, you have to admit, she’s a very elusive powerhouse that has managed to destabilize entire systems.”

Sam drapes her arm over the back of the couch, and rests her head on her the heel of her palm. Lena can be so easy sometimes.

“She’s opened up sources of income for at least hundreds of aliens. She doesn’t want any of the power that my brother and Superman had fought to the death about. She had a career as a reporter but she chose to spend her days fighting inequity directly, Sam. From what we found, we know she’s been working alone, yet she- she-

Lena catches herself, finally realizing that she’s done nothing but prove Sam’s point.

“Yep. You’ve told me _all_ about it. Like, a hundred times. I can’t blame you, though, Lena. I know it’s weird how she’s apparently the one they call The Girl, but it makes perfect sense. Kara Danvers seems like the kind of girl who would do that. It _is_ impressive to see her juggle more than one identity. Plus, she’s cute. I mean, I guess at least when people could still see her face.”

“Sam? Weren’t you going to tell me about that thing you found?”

“Oh, right, yeah,” She laughs a little at how she herself is beginning to sound like a fan, although she definitely doesn’t have it as bad as Lena. “Well, it turns out, Kara Danvers wasn’t always alone as The Girl. Remember that piece of tech we managed to take from CADMUS?”

“The one from Astra? The kryptonian we suspected is The Blur -

“We have no proof yet that Astra is The Blur."

"And that's because there’s been no trace of her for almost two years.”

“Yes, but, get this.” Sam pauses for what she hopes is effect. “What we do know, is that she’s been in touch with one Kara Danvers.”

“What? Are you sure?”

Sam knows that Lena is more than familiar with her decoding skills. So Lena questioning her abilities is testament to how little her friend expected the Danvers girl to be a part of this.

Perhaps still trapped in her own thoughts, Lena frowns at the pizza, not even asking for further evidence. Not able to tell if she’s distraught or compelled by the implication of her findings, Sam proceed to take out her phone. The other one. The one with a secure line and storage. She waits for Lena to finish her glass of water and to return her gaze before playing the voice recording.

* * *

The billionaire heiress has been discharged from the hospital without Kara knowing. She blames Kal for distracting her yet again. He shouldn’t have picked a fight with Kryptonite wielding creeps. After that detour to the DEO, there’s a lot of catching up to do on Lena Luthor’s background. And that’s on top of tailing her around National City.

Kara almost wishes Lena would just do something sketchy already so she can call it a day. Anyone too eager to drive the morning right after hospital confinement cannot be up to anything good. To Kara’s absolute frustration, the Luthor’s route reeks of nothing more than the ultimate one percent poster girl. There was yoga, the nails spa, the incredibly long time it took for her to finish her kombucha, and the futile argument about a parking ticket she deserved in the first place. That took the entire morning and a third of her van’s fuel tank.

If Kara didn’t find out that Lena bested her brother’s GPAs, she would march up to Cat Grant and tell her to mine one of her columns from Lena’s outfits instead. That’s about the wealth of material they’re gonna get. When Lena steps out of her car wearing her black jeans, a loose white top, and a slim fit leather jacket, Kara wonders if the woman really does have great taste, or if she just manages to look great in everything. Could she still somehow make potato sacks look fashionable?

She isn’t given a chance to follow that thought when Lena Luthor turns to her general direction. Kara ducks and curses herself. She really would’ve preferred following Lena on foot but it’s deathly impossible to be inconspicuous. The Mayor’s solution to the exponentially increasing crime rates in National City is to install a hundred security cameras per street. That sure cleared the streets of some petty crime, but only made the lucrative syndicates more creative with bending the law.

Kara peeks through her lead lined glasses. Lena has already turned to enter the apartment building. This can’t be hers. It’s on the lower end of real estate. She leaves the engine running hoping her dad’s van wouldn’t betray her. She gives it a new paint job every few months or so, and has somehow gotten away with a lot of tailing.

As if to make up for any stealth points her van might have taken, she opts to stay put. She’ll let her super hearing and x-ray vision do the work. When she takes off her glasses, and tunes in on Lena knocking, she still could not recall any information that would explain what Lena is doing on this side of the neighborhood. Nothing made Kara realize how far behind she is in her research than when Nia Nall answers the door.

* * *

Nia Nall is her client. Well, she _does_ represent Cat Grant. Though sometimes, Kara likes her enough to let her call them partners. She’s partly the reason why Kara thought investigating stories for Catco would be a good idea. Nia makes the most of what Kara digs up. 

When she tries to peek into the apartment, blank walls meet her x-ray vision. Lena and Nia’s voices are gradually muffled as if they’re being swallowed by a deterrent. It must be lead. _Layers_ of it. Just as the Luthor has no fathomable reason for paying her a visit, Nia should have no reason to douse her apartment walls with lead. Unless she knows there is a kryptonian in National City. If she knows this, then Lena must know, too.

But Nia _is_ without a doubt, an alien. Perhaps it’s only fair that Nia knows her secret, if she knows her secret, too. If Lena knows, and if she did inherit what’s left of Lex’s anti-alien weapons, then Nia must be in danger. An icy feeling settles in Kara’s gut. Her thoughts drift to the DEO medbay, to her unconscious cousin. The yellow sun lamps better be working double time. Now is not the best time for any vulnerable alien to be in the city. Before she hops out of her cursed van to barge into the apartment, she hears the door open.

“Ms. Luthor, _please_. They’re not set in stone.” That could only be Nia. She sounds neither injured nor hurt.

“Stop. ” Lena, however, _does_ sound more than a little hurt. “I’ve made too many conscious efforts, and your vision has stayed the same.” She looks around nervously as if she knows someone could be listening.. “I-I have to go. And it’s Lena, not Ms. _Luthor_ for you.”

The crack in her voice is louder than the footsteps retreating to her car. It’s later then beaten only by the sound of Lena’s forehead hitting the steering wheel. For a moment Kara thinks the Luthor has fainted and that she’d have to rush her to the emergency room again, but she hears a long overdue sigh. It plays over and over again like a broken record in Kara’s mind.

In the most uninvited of times, her ridiculously loud pager is set off by a ping from M’gann. It’s only been a day. Cat Grant can’t possibly be demanding answers already. From the amount of cash she paid her, she’s clearly gunning for a long game exclusive.

Movement in Lena’s car manages to startle Kara amidst the sound of her clunky, loud makeshift pager. As Lena drives away, Kara becomes increasingly aware that she is finally sure of one thing about her commission's subject: Lena Luthor could use a drink.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who aren't familliar, The Blur in some comics and in Smallville is what people used to call supers when superman was not an identity yet. They couldn't use Flash because reasons lol  
> Supercorp centric chapters are next!  
> ‘Til then, you can wail at me on twitter: faithinmanila


	3. Blackmails and Tall Tales

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Kara and Lena, two actual geniuses, prove to be useless enemies because they’re (mostly) useless gays.

There is no telling when Kara made the decision to ignore her client, but she has somehow found herself a few cars behind the Luthor. Catco would have to wait. She briefly wonders who Cat Grant sent to wait for her at the bar if Nia is still back in her apartment. It must be Snapper. Kara surprises herself with how loud that makes her laugh. She could definitely make Snapper Carr wait.

She cuts herself off when she realizes that that also means M’gann would have to deal with him. The bar owner gets a cut by letting her bar double as Kara’s office. “This share ain’t for covering up your lapses”, she can recall her saying more than once. M’gann is a gentle white martian, but like every self-respecting entrepreneur in the margins, she sets a minefield of rules. Navigate or die trying. Metaphorically, Kara hopes. She was beginning to worry about how much trouble she’s in with M’gann when she finds that she _is,_ in fact, pulling over at M’gann’s. She had been following Lena to the bar.

Of aliens.

“What in the name of-

Before she could realize what’s happening, Lena Luthor is already by the front door. She did think the woman needed a drink, but not this early, and certainly not in a dive bar for extraterrestrials.

“Password,” she hears Adam, the lean, inconspicuous bouncer say. He shows no sign that he recognizes Lena, but judging from how early he stationed himself at the front, he most definitely was tipped about her arrival. Kara turns her attention back to the woman, listening for any hint of fear. But despite hearing a quickening heartbeat, the voice in response comes easy.

“Cassiopeia,” Lena says.

It’s just a different major constellation every week. Not exactly a huge pool of passwords to guess from. However, Lena said it with certainty. Too much certainty.

Kara must’ve left her mouth hanging open. She coughs out the air that has made its way to her underused vocal chords and swallows. This is going to be a long day. As the woman disappears into the bar, it is then that Kara realizes that the racing heart beat she picked up is her own, not the Luthor’s.

* * *

There is no graceful way to stand when caught at your own game. Kara tries. She ventures a glance in Lena’s direction, finding relief in being met with the woman’s back instead of her eyes. There must be some advantage to this. They say that in a boxing match, the one who turns and loses sight of their opponent has already lost the game.

Yet even with her back turned to Kara, soft hair tied in a bun, and a smooth fragile neck on display, Lena manages to be anything but vulnerable. There is something about her upright yet relaxed shoulders that dispels the rest of the room. Something almost lethal. Without losing sight of her target, Kara heads to the bar where M’gann would, without fail, be having a drink for herself before another night of serving any.

“That’s your client,” M’gann says in lieu of a greeting.

“I-I have a new client.”

“That’s what I just said.”

M’gann looks from the woman to Kara. “You sound scared. Should I be worried?”

By worried, M’gann doesn’t mean worried about her. They have an agreement that she is not to bring any trouble in the bar. Kara assumes a more composed posture.

“What? No. I’m not scared.”

“Then why are you shaking?”

“What? It’s uh- it’s a bit cold”

“Then get your cold ass over there.”

It was her. She had M’gann ping her. Lena either knows she’s been following her, or worse, she knows she’s an alien. Either way, there’s no point in anonymity. She doesn’t know why she didn’t expect this coming. She already messed up in covering her partnership with the police. It’s only a matter of time before someone she doesn’t want to find her would.

Kara finally takes notice of the rest of the room. Chairs lay atop tables upside down as they should when the bar is closed. No one else is here. She takes off her hood and her mask. The only reason the Luthor would trust her is if she comes as Kara Danvers. She manages to push herself to the table, putting one (loud) sure foot after the other.

Kara was hoping she could drag the chair so that the screech would swallow the sound of her shallow breathing. The chair in question however, appears to have already been pulled out across the Luthor. She makes a show of adjusting her seat as she takes it, and tries not to flinch at finally seeing Lena up close.

Calculating, green eyes and a jaw with a mission. This woman knows. She definitely knows. It takes a while for Kara to remember that she’s supposed to say something off putting. Instead, she cuts to the chase.

“You know that I’ve been following you.” This is easy so far, Kara thinks. She might as well.

Without taking her eyes off Kara, Lena takes a gulp of what can only be whiskey. Kara watches as the slight bump on her delicate neck moves, and finds herself swallowing, too. The sound of the glass settling back on the table brings her back to Lena’s eyes.

“Your signature is all over my encryption,” she finally says.

“My what?”

“You almost made it through the firewall,” the Luthor says. “That’s impressive.”

If the deep green eyes didn't derail Kara, then the voice certainly did.

“You should consider putting that effort into bulking up your own firewalls though, instead of breaking into someone else’s.” 

Without waiting for either counter argument or reaction, the woman pulls out her phone. A few taps later, she shows her a photo. Kara’s eyes widen almost imperceptibly. Thankfully, Lena’s are still on the phone as she scrolls up to reveal even more photos. It’s not easy to keep a neutral face as she stares at images of herself. They were all taken years ago before she became The Girl, before she ever had to wear a mask.

She blinks, gathering her thoughts. The photos shouldn’t have to mean anything.

“If you wanted to have a drink with me, you should’ve just asked,” Kara says, hoping to at least be a nuisance.

But all it does is encourage the smile that's been playing at Lena’s lips.

“I could say the same thing to you,” Lena teases.

Kara tilts her head, the joke lost on her.

“I mean, _really_ , a big yellow van that makes more noise than microwaving popcorn?”

“Oh come on. If you knew I’d been following you- Did you really have to do yoga and have your nails done? Wait. Do you even really drink kombucha?”

There’s a tense pause before it happens. Lena starts laughing. Unironically. Whatever chance she might’ve had to suppress it is lost as she takes another look at Kara. The kryptonian gets the feeling she will never forget that sound.

Perhaps it was the look on her face, or the way she said kombucha. Whatever it is, Lena Luthor, sister of a dead sociopath, heir to plummeting stocks and a ruined name is honest to _Rao_ enjoying herself. She grips the sides of the table to keep herself upright but shows no signs of stopping.

Despite the confusion, Kara’s not surprised. If Lena was going to have a sense of humor, it most definitely would have to be at someone else’s expense. She is a Luthor after all.

It wouldn’t have been an issue if the woman didn’t look the way she did. She has that little scrunch on her nose that just shouldn’t be doing anyone any favors. To Kara’s distress, it makes the Luthor look every bit more attractive.

“I just thought” Lena starts, finally getting a hold of herself. “I just thought it would be nice to take you on a trip around your own city.”

“Right, ok. Very funny. Are you done being a twelve-year old?”

“Not in the slightest, darling.”

“Don’t _darling_ me.”

“What would you want then?”

She can do this. She is Kara Zor-el. She _always_ has the upper hand. At least not when someone with divine green eyes is leaning towards her. _Damn it._ To get a hold of herself, Kara focuses on the fact that there could only be one reason Lena’s here.

“How about you tell me what _you_ want?”

“Kara,” the Luthor says. For a hot second, Kara forgot what she was asking for, because the moment Lena said her name, a gust of wind trespassed their space. It wasn’t even remotely strong. But it was enough to carry the scent—Grapeseed oil from unquestionably expensive body wash and a hint of something that only skin can produce. Something that reminded her of pinewoods in Midvale.

“Kara? Are you alright?” It was all Kara could do to keep focused. Fortunately, or unfortunately, the voice brings her back to question why they’re both sitting across each other with proximity no one could expect between a Luthor and a Kryptonian.

 _Rao she smells so good._ Nearly helpless to its effect, she could only curse M’gann for leaving the windows flanking them open. Even though that’s just what she does everyday to chase away the hodgepodge of scents from the previous night of booze and cigarettes.

And then she curses herself for letting Lena maneuver her into her traps the entire day.

“Well, uh, yeah. So, what is it? What do you want from me, Luthor?”

Lena’s gaze shifts from one of concern ( _concern?_ ) to one of intent. This is it. This is the moment she would tell Kara that she knows everything, that she is a Kryptonian. She would tell her that the city is surrounded by her men armed with kryptonite, and that Kara can either come quietly or dig graves, starting with her sister’s.

She balks at the thought of having to kidnap the Luthor to get out of this. But if she doesn’t do anything, Alex and Jeremiah’s sacrifices to keep her identity from anyone, especially a Luthor will be for nothing. As much she hates being blackmailed, she hopes Lena gets around to it because considering the history of violence between Luthors and aliens, a chance at striking a bargain would be the best case scenario.

She rethinks that as soon Lena relaxes, and leans back on her chair.

“I’d like to commission you to find The Blur,” Lena says. She says it as if she’s merely asking Kara to walk her dog.

Kara, on the other hand, almost gets whiplash pulling her head out of an apocalypse fever dream. “The what now?”

Lena rolls her eyes, already losing her patience. She pulls a binder from her case and pushes it to her. Kara opens it, her eyes landing on a newspaper clipping held by steel fasteners.

 _“Boston ICE Detention Center Break In : Detainees, Escaped Without a Trace”_ , it says. She glances at Lena who only gestures for her to continue. She gingerly flips the brittle page to reveal the succeeding ones. Each yellowing sheet is a headline that seems to have nothing to do with her.

_Congress or Crooks? : Evidence of Corruption Delivered on the White House Doorstep, Literally._

_Japan Symposium Data, Wiped. Conferences for Alien Counterterrorism Treaty, Postponed Indefinitely_

_Humanitarian Aid Research by Alien Doctors Revealed in Mumbai_

_Video Evidence of Extrajudicial Killings in the Philippines Uploaded on the Presidential Website_

_Missing Alien Technology Eyed for its Medical Uses Found on Top of Lakhta Centre, Russia. Government, Accused of Hiding the Innovation from the Public_

_Gone With the Wind : The Amazon Forest Fire_

_Jeff Bezos Found and Arrested on Charges of Unjust Labor Practices_

None of the articles mentioned her as any of her identities. Not even Superman was linked to any of them. However, each and every single one of them corresponds to Kara’s memories. 

There’s nearly a hundred clippings in the binder, and it would take her all afternoon to go through each of them. With each sporadic landing on a page, she struggles to feign unfamiliarity, well aware that the Luthor is watching her closely. She flips to the last article, published by a tabloid. She recognizes it as the small press that was rebranded to _Daily Veritas_.

_It’s Raining Cash in Dallas. Literal Cash._

There’s a photo of paper bills falling from the sky, the citizens with arms in the air and some bent on the ground. It’s a powerful shot, she admits. It’s probably what converted the tabloid into hard hitting journalism over the years. And of course it had to be taken by her ex-well, not really, James Olsen.

This one was an accident, though. She meant to deposit the cash she stole from an illegal weapons trade to public school bank accounts, but a careless distraction got the huge bag of cash ripped by angry migratory birds. She was flying particularly high to avoid being seen. It was a hard lesson learned.

“What am I looking at?”

“The work of The Blur,” Lena says, taking another sip from her drink. When Kara only tries to look more confused, Lena elaborates.

“But you already know that. Only someone with super speed, super strength, x-ray vision, and laser vision could’ve done that.”

Kara’s heart is suddenly working double time. The Luthor can’t have figured it out this early, can she?

“Just imagine how though, how much precision these must’ve taken. It’s like Superman… but better.”

Forgetting herself, Kara nearly sighs in relief. Lena might not have noticed, though. She’s looking past Kara, seemingly lost in bewilderment.

“And smarter,” Lena adds almost to herself.

_Did she just- did the Luthor just fangirl?_

“You’re spending too much time in the dark web,” Kara says, bringing the woman’s attention back to her.

“In case you haven’t noticed,” Lena says, tapping a finger at the binder. It lands on Kara’s own hand that is still on the article. “Those are newspaper clippings.”

 _Her fingers are so pretty,_ Kara thinks as she takes her own hand away. Before she can metaphorically slap herself for it, an image of Lena cutting newspaper gingerly, and carefully gluing them on a wall visits her mind. She manages to look up from the fingers in question only to find Lena smirking. _Fuck._ She most definitely noticed Kara blushing. She must be thinking Kara’s mind went somewhere less chaste. Kara swallows refocusing on Lena’s eyes, which isn’t really helping.

“If I can’t even hack into your system,” Kara blurts out. “What makes you think I can find a super speeding alien who doesn’t want to be found?”

“You are responsible for every solved missing person’s case in the city, Kara.” The Luthor shrugs, putting her drink down. “You found them. Dead or alive, you found them.”

Except Jeremiah. Fat lot of good vigilante life had done for her family.

“Who’s Jeremiah?”

Kara almost chokes. Had she really said that out loud?

“Oh nobody. I don’t mean that he’s a nobody because he obviously is somebody to- to someone- I just mean, he’s now a nobody. ‘Cause I didn’t find him.” Kara manages to say all that without looking away.

She doesn’t know Lena Luthor, but having looked into those eyes, she knows quite enough. Enough to tell that Lena has already bookmarked this information for later use. That could be the only explanation for the lingering stare.

“He’s my first failed mission is all. I just mean that I fail. A lot. And you probably should’ve come to someone else.”

Her meager attempt to avert the woman’s interest seems to backfire. Something about her ramble seems to amuse the Luthor even more. Under her intense, scalding gaze, Kara squirms. She does her best to stare right back. If she looks away too much, Lena would consider everything she says a lie. Not that she’s been able to foil the woman’s observant glances so far.

As if taking mercy on Kara, she breaks her gaze. “There’s no one else I can trust.”

“And you trust me?”

“No. God, no,” Lena says in between laughs. “You’re not that cute.”

Lena finally stops herself before she gets lost in another laughing fit. “I don’t trust you,” she repeats more seriously. For some reason that gives Kara some comfort.

“But Cat Grant seems to.”

Everybody knows Cat Grant, Kara knows. But she finds herself asking anyway. “Wait, you know her?” 

“No, I only went through your half hearted firewalls for nothing,” Lena deadpans.

“Of course, I know her. I wasn’t surprised to find that she hired you to stalk me. Who else would have the sense to come to you instead of policemen and paparazzis? She’s smart enough to have a Luthor investigated _and_ to pay you with neither paper nor digital trails, I’ll give her that. If someone like her can count on you. Maybe I can, too.”

“I still don’t get it. Any of this.”

Lena does that thing again where she shakes her head like she’s above any demands to explain herself. But because she is Kara Zor-el, she moves on to demanding another set of explanations. Despite her nerves, that is.

“What do you want from… from The Blur?”

“I know you’re some kind of hermit, Kara but don’t you read the news? They saved my life.”

She only nods, still stuck at how Lena managed to use her name and the word hermit in a single sentence.

“Can’t a girl thank her hero?”

She almost throws up at that, not just because Lena is clearly lying, but because of the idea that she is a hero. She briefly recalls the set of Superman plushies she saw a boy running around with the other day. _Barf_.

“If she disappeared so quickly she probably doesn’t need a thank you.”

“But you see-

“Luthor,” Kara finds herself calling out. She doesn’t know what else she can say or do to stall the woman, because it feels like Lena braved this night only because the cards are practically in her hands. But Kara has to try.

“I know you probably have enough evidence of my identity as The Girl, but even blackmailing me won’t get you anywhere. I don’t have even a sliver of a clue as to who The Blur is or if she’s even in National City.”

“She?” Lena smirks. “So you know The Blur is a woman.”

_Shit._

“I don’t. He, she, they. I could’ve easily just made a mistake like anyone, okay?”

“You expect me to believe that Ms. Social Justice isn’t careful with pronouns? If I am mindful of such things, I can’t imagine you being any less thorough. So tell me, what else do you know about her?”

As much as Lena taking command is doing unspeakable things to Kara, her fear gets the better of her. 

“Please stop acting like you know me. You don’t.”

Something about that must’ve deflated Lena. Her smirk quickly fades. In avoiding Kara’s eyes, she withdraws her hands away from Kara’s sight. She’s a hundred percent sure that those hands are now fidgeting on her lap under the table. This can’t be an act because Kara, for all intents and purposes, has caught her off guard.

“I- I wanted to,” Lena says, almost like a whisper, almost like she just lost something and Kara doesn’t know what to do with that.

The Luthor looks at her. Really looks at her. Somewhere in that standstill, she has made a decision.

“I didn’t want to resort to this.”

“To what?”

 _Oh god is this the part where she takes out the Kryptonite?_ Kara inches herself off her seat as imperceptibly as she can. She needs to be able to zip out of the building.

But Lena only pulls out her phone. She unlocks it and opens a file browser.

Kara relaxes, but only slightly, her weight still not fully resting on the seat cushion. When Lena finally plays the file, she finds that it would be impossible to ever relax again tonight. Because what follows the crackling static is a voice she thought she’d never hear again.

_“Kara, you’re not listening to me. This planet will die the way Krypton did. I can’t let that happen.”_

_“Astra, please.”_

Kara knows it’s her speaking now, but it feels like a completely different person. It sounds like someone who can beg desperately. Someone who won’t give up in seeing the good in everyone.

_“They’re coming after you. With Kryptonite. Alex knows about Myriad. They all do. Please don’t do this.”_

There’s a long silence. For a moment, she doesn’t care that Lena Luthor is blackmailing her. She’s twenty four again, paying Alex a visit not because it’s Christmas eve, but because her sister had just driven a kryptonite blade into her aunt’s heart. Just another loss she didn’t get to mourn about.

Finally she hears a trembling sigh. Could Astra have been crying? She doesn’t remember dwelling on that part.

_“Good bye, Kara.”_

The call ends there. That part, she remembers well. _Kara_. On their last interaction, her aunt had called her Kara instead of Little One.

“It sounds a terrible lot like you’ve been talking to a Kryptonian.”

The Luthor’s voice brings her back to the bar. To M’gann’s. She has the overwhelming urge to fly through the roof and break more things. But M’gann has enough problems. She didn’t want repair costs to be one of them. Without asking, she takes Lena’s glass of whiskey and downs it in nearly one gulp.

But it’s not enough. Of course. It’s human whiskey. She considers requesting her own drink, but she didn’t want the martian to catch a whiff of the storm they’re in. Without needing to penetrate Kara’s mind telepathically, she knows M’gann would be able to sense her overwhelming anger.

There’s the anger at Astra for not seeing beyond her own reason, at her mother for imprisoning her own sister for pursuing truth, at her fellow kryptonians for driving the planet to destruction in the first place, at Kal-el for putting all the decisions in her hands, at Alex for doing what Kara could not bring herself to do, at herself for even resenting Alex who simply wanted to keep the world her sister is in safe, and for not being enough to veer her family away from metaphorical and literal madness. She’s never going to be enough.

And now, there's only this Luthor who decided to threaten her by unearthing every single one of her upheavals all at once. Not that kara would do any of her bidding had she simply asked nicely.

Perhaps because she can’t manifest that anger in any way inside M’gann’s bar, Kara finds herself shaking. She is shaking from the effort of keeping the tears in. How is it that the _one_ time she needed to use a regular, traceable phone was for calling Astra?

In avoiding Lena’s eyes, she noticed she has grown quiet, too. Just earlier, she sounded just about ready to hand Kara her rehearsed bargain. But somewhere in between Kara drinking and gripping the sides of the table, Lena’s face has fallen into a state of shock. Like she didn’t have a card to play in case this happens. In case Kara starts crying. Oh _Rao_ she _is_ crying.

“Kara,” she says in a hushed low voice. Something about the way she says her name unhinges her. She had only said her name but it sounds a lot like she’s already abandoned what she came for tonight. She wonders if this, too, is an act. Eitherway, it goes without saying that small mercies only make the distraught cry harder.

“I- I didn’t really think this through,” Lena pleads, acting as if she just blew her chances.

“Clearly,” Kara says, wiping the tears away. Of course she didn’t factor in the possibility of opening a pandora’s box of trauma that spans decades and galaxies. Kara has no business expecting the Luthor to be considerate but still. She can’t believe she expected the worst—threats to her family’s life—and is still blindsided by something that is technically not even blackmail. Most of all, she can’t believe she let this woman think she’s hurt her when really, she’s just too angry to do anything but cry.

“I didn’t think it would mean this much to you. I only wanted to prove to you that I know that you know The Blur. So that you won’t skirt around it when I offer you a deal. Oh god please don’t cry.”

“I’m not crying,” Kara says between sobs. Miraculously, she adds giggling to the mess, causing Lena’s eyes to grow wide like saucers. She can tell that for the woman, her dismay is rooted not from judgment, but from the sense of helplessness in comforting someone in tears. To find their allergic reaction to people crying identical is unexpectedly, unbearably funny.

Lena turns her head to glance at the only other person in the room. Lena then looks back at Kara, leaning as if to conspire. 

“I think your friend might come see what’s up if you cry harder,” she says with an earnest, hushed tone. “Between you and me, I background checked her, and there’s nothing about her that’s catastrophically scary.”

Kara looks up at the white martian who is staring at them while wiping glasses very slowly. Too slowly.

“Oh good, you finally don’t know what you’re talking about, Luthor.”

“Clearly. Because she _did_ put a hand on my shoulder and warned me not to cause any… trouble. You know, me being a Luthor and all.”

The image of a big white martian advancing and wrecking the aisle just to give Lena a talking to somehow eases her. She wonders if Lena is deliberately trying to lighten the mood. She wonders, too, if M’gann is, in fact, her friend. Would she kick Kara out of the bar for bringing a Luthor in? For practically bringing a war against aliens in? Or will she be concerned about Kara’s emotional state?

“You did research on M’gann M’orzz? 

“Why not?”

“Well, you’re braver than I thought. That’s a death sentence. Oh, no she’s approaching. Think happy thoughts.

“What?”

“Just do it.”

The bar owner approaches them with a smile on, which should not at all be eerie. Except M’gann M’orzz almost never smiles.

“Is everything okay?”

“No, M’gann it’s fine. I just- Ms. Luthor here was just telling me something hilarious.”

“Too funny it made you cry?”

 _Crap_.

"It's well, it's an embarassing story," Lena says turning to M’gann and staring right up at her with a smile of her own.

_Double crap._

But eventually, it’s M’gann who cuts the deadlock.

“Well, if you’re having a private catch up or whatever, be aware that we’ll open in about thirty minutes. You might want to wrap up.”

“I won’t be long now, M’gann,” Lena says.

The Martian gives the both of them weighted glances before resuming her work at the bar. Once she’s several feet away, the two of them catch each other’s eyes, and well, what else is there to do? They burst into giggles like students who just got away with a classroom misconduct.

If M’gann were to glance over, which she most certainly does, she’d be pulling her hair out. _And honestly, same._ This is probably the most disorienting appointment Kara has ever had.

Lena, who seems to have a better grasp of things, recovers from the laughing fit first. “Kara,” she says, waiting for her to sober up and meet her eyes.

“You don’t have to do the job if you don’t want to. I shouldn’t have played that recording.”

“But you did,” Kara says gravely.

“I- yeah, I’m sorry. I should’ve just asked you about what I need.”

Kara knows it’s dangerous, but if she’s going to lose, she'd rather be hit smack through the head than be played with first. And so with one more try, she attempts to dispel the game.

“No, Lena. What you should’ve done, is to threaten me with human or alien life like a proper Luthor would. You know my identity. In fact, you shouldn't be negotiating with me so… amicably and without hostages. You know the people who are in or was in my life. So cut the crap and lay it on me.”

They’re silent for a long moment, not entirely making good on the promise of wrapping up.

“You know what?” Lena suddenly says. Kara wonders for the hundredth time, if this is the part where Lena will prove to be her worst nightmare. The woman may or may not have chosen to take this moment to finally show her real cards. Perhaps she’s here to make threats after all.

“Maybe I can orchestrate a scene that would make her show up.”

“What?”

“What are the chances of The Blur apprehending me if I publicly lie, claiming to have bioweapons?”

“Uh, I honestly have no idea, but why would you send every armed force after you?”

She watches the woman nod. The little movement, though, is not in response to what Kara said. “Yeah, that would require too many fake documents.”

“What are you talking about?”

But Lena was not really talking to her. It’s like she’s gone to a corner in her mind to regroup. And what’s even more confusing is how she seems to already be mulling over other ways she can find The Blur by herself. Kara is not about to believe her sincerity, but it’s hard not to get caught up in her charade, if that’s what it even is. Kara no longer knows what the hell is going on. Not that she ever had a clear grasp at all since she tailed the Luthor around the city.

“You’re an odd person, Lena Luthor.”

Seemingly rebooted by the mention of her name, Lena looks up from the table. She blinks at Kara, and then, well, she smiles. _Rao._ Kara wonders where she learned to smile like that. More importantly, who gave her permission to?

“I’m going to take that as a compliment,” Lena says.

“I didn’t mean that as a compliment.”

“Well, I do. You’re an odd person, too, Kara Danvers.”

“I’m not the one paying a washed-up local bloodhound an obscene amount of money to thank a hero who doesn’t want to be found.”

“Well, I _am_ rich.”

Kara rolls her eyes.

“We both know I was lying,” Lena says leaning in once again in a hushed tone. “It’s just- I can’t tell you what I need her for. It’s too dangerous.”

It occurs to Kara, finally, decidedly, that Lena did not come to National City to escape her past. She came to National City to face it.

“Why all this then?” Kara waves her hand to no direction in particular.

“Why didn’t you just email me the recording? What’s up with the games?”

“Again, I’m sorry about that. But you do know digital security is an obvious reason. Why else would you meet your clients here?

Kara doesn’t reply sensing a ‘but’ in there.

“But you know,” Lena says, beginning to sound almost as confused about it as Kara is. 

“That _is_ a good question,” Lena says more to herself, once again forgetting she’s with company.

It didn’t take long before she smiled again, staring at her glass. It’s as if an idea, all new and promising, takes a hold of the Luthor. Kara lets herself be drawn, bringing them as close as the table between them would allow. Lena studies Kara’s face as if to test a hypothesis. It wasn’t clear to either of them whose eyes were glancing on the other’s lips as they did it in sync.

“Maybe I really _did_ just want to have a drink with the one they call The Girl.”

After sharing glances too charged to merely be a standoff, Lena withdraws. Suddenly she’s just, sad was it? No, she’s sad _and_ scared. Kara can tell because she just now, she activated x-ray vision to see right through the table. Lena’s hands are all but fidgeting.

Allowing no chance to probe this moment, Lena gets up. She hesitates as if she were choosing how to sign off an email. She settles for a smile, and turns to leave. When Kara took this seat moments ago, she didn’t think that all this would simply end with her watching Lena Luthor walk away.

“Wait.”

The woman obliges, turning to Kara once again.

“I’m still not going to help you, Luthor.”

“I know. But a girl had to try.”

As easy as she wants to be off the hook, Kara feels nothing if not shortchanged. Is this really the best a Luthor could do in the game they’re taught since they were children? Or is this an even more thorough, drawn out method of deceit.

“I’m going to find out what you’re up to before you find The Blur yourself. If any of your plans can hurt aliens and humans alike, you better know I _can_ and will stop you.”

For the first time, Lena looks genuinely victorious. Kara might as well have agreed to whatever deal she wanted out of this. “I’m counting on it,” she says.

Kara frowns. Her list of reasons as to why today makes no sense at all is only growing. Some investigative journalist she is.

“Well,” Kara fidgets not knowing how to react to any of, well, anything. “Good- good night then.”

_What was that?_

Lena laughs.

“See you around, Kara.”

Other than the implications of her ridiculously low voice, Lena walks away without an agenda. It’s like she does not want to be stopped, her gait too quick for Kara’s liking.

She looks, instead, at the documents on the table. She hoped they weren’t left on purpose. Kara doesn’t understand why, but she was hoping for an excuse to call out to her. Retrieving forgotten items seems reasonable. She tries to gather the binder quickly and shoves them inside the envelope. The binder meets resistance. Something thick must be at the bottom of the envelope. Without using x-ray vision, she lifts the front flap to take a peek.

 _Yup_.

An obscene amount of money.

* * *

One can only do so much to hide the fact that they’re an alien. For Kara, it wasn’t as easy as ‘it takes one to know one’. There are various species that are mostly humanoid by nature, if not by skill. Like martians, a few can even shapeshift with varying levels of ease.

Conveniently, or inconveniently, there are illegal models of image inducers that have circulated. Though they are only effective for minutes at a time, they have been known to thwart even aliens from recognizing each other. Kara has smuggled some herself.

So no, aliens can’t just sense if someone is not from the earth. The “vibing” theory is just that, a theory. For centuries, aliens have not quite gotten the hang of sensing each other simply because there’s a huge variation of species. Despite human efforts to lump all aliens into one kind, they all experience the world, the universe rather, differently.

This put the preservation of universal coding off the table. Secret signals would come and go. Sometimes, the reason would simply be that they’re intercepted by humans. Often, it would be used against them.

Revealing oneself to someone merely suspected as a fellow alien is understood to be dangerous. So it is neither through code, then nor confession that Kara knows that about Nia Nall. It was inexplicable absences back when she worked at Catco. It was Cat Grant pardoning, no, ignoring them a little too easily. It was Nia sleep talking in a mystifying language in the middle of her office power naps. It was her wild confidence in what she undoubtedly downplays as gut feelings.

Sometimes, in her ramblings that remind Kara of herself from years ago, Nia would make references that don’t make sense. As remote as her existence is now, Kara is still familiar with the prevailing pop culture. But when it comes to Nia’s references, she’s utterly lost. She chalked it up once to Nia being one of the kids, or Zoomers as they call themselves. But the few times she gives Nia’s slip ups the time of day, she finds that she’s been mentioning movies or song lyrics that don’t exist or, when Kara allowed herself to believe, phenomena that have _yet_ to trend.

Nia would do more than slip up from time to time, unable to help herself from bragging to Kara about ‘that one time’ she taught some catcallers a lesson, or when she escaped the goons of a human trafficking ring she was trying to uncover. Kara didn’t have trouble believing the reporter could fight well. In fact, with the amount of extrajudicial murders of journalists, Kara thinks every reporter should learn self-defense.

At first, Nia’s recounting only seemed like a way to impress Kara, whether because she’s her former mentor or because she’s The Girl. But each time, it sounded increasingly like Nia’s trying to tell her something. Perhaps in classic reporter style that she herself taught Nia, she may very well be goading her into asking if she’s an alien.

Another very telling clue would be Nia’s response to alien discrimination. This wouldn’t be surprising judging from how Kara would’ve long since called her a naive idealist if she herself doesn’t act like one. They all wanted to believe that humans can be as determined to vanquish bigotry as activist aliens are. But Nia can seem more than say, _invested_ in the cause to be human.

There are many known sympathizers of aliens on earth. Take their boss for instance. Cat Grant, despite her shrewd ways, would reasonably punish every violator of alien rights among her employees. She’s one of the few CEOs who would hire aliens and let them keep their alien identity under wraps should they choose to. In fact, she put an alien in charge of HR. Nevermind the nuanced implications of not changing the department’s name from human resources.

Nia however, would not only be angry about the injustices against aliens. She would weather through accusations of reporter bias, risk her job, and find ways to weaponize the bigots’ secrets against them _._ At that, Kara had even told her she’s proud.

But neither Kara’s praises nor Cat’s unsuspecting approval seemed enough. It always felt like Nia was waiting for Kara to notice something, well, otherworldly. If Nia couldn’t straight up just tell her she’s an alien, what Kara considers evidence are the tears that threaten to burst whenever she has to be the one to break extraterrestrial discrimination in the news. Unfortunately, it happens quite often in National City.

Outside the anger that Nia lets people see, she would mope as if she had _lost_ something. On at least two of these occasions, she caught the Catco Editor-in-Chief, who could never be bothered with warmth, comforting her. Whether it be hushed solacing, a hand on the shoulder, or a knowing look. What were those if not dead giveaways?

Kara has observed that Nia only comes to the bar as a human, Kara has noted. She understands the risk of outing oneself as an alien journalist, but shouldn’t she at least find friends among them like everyone else? Maybe she is hiding more than just her planetary origin. Maybe Kara’s not setting a good example with her solitary alien life. Or maybe it simply has something to do with whatever relationship Nia has with the Luthor.

What puzzles Kara about all this is that the young reporter is giving her too many hints. It’s like she knows what Kara is. It doesn’t make sense for Nia to know that Kara is The Blur and not confront her. She’s an excitable bean for Rao’s sake. She would often break whatever methods of secrecy she knows to gossip with Kara.

And what was up with all the lead? Did Kal give her any reason to fear kryptonians? Is she hiding something specifically from The Blur? The lead doesn’t add up unless… Kara wonders if Nia is hiding from a daxamite.

Since their kind is far more affected by lead, it would make more sense. Except the last known daxamites have left. Mon-el has practically been yeeted off the planet by Alex, Kal, and Kara. Twice. It’s one of the few things their family has agreed on—that the planet _and_ Kara are better off without him.

Finally, Kara spots Nia making her way around the corner. She’s got a bounce in her steps as usual. And as usual, instead of just straightaway hopping in, she stands outside Streaky’s window and waves at Kara like a kid hailing an ice cream truck. Kara beckons for her to get in.

“You would never believe what Snapper does when he’s in a good mood,” Nia says as she climbs in.

“What?”

“Come on, you’re not even going to guess?”

Normally, she would engage in her prattling. There’s an odd sense of alliance she gets from her mere presence. Maybe that’s why she suspected Nia is an alien in the first place. Maybe the vibe theory deserves more credit. Even compared to other aliens, she is still quite exceptional. 

But tonight, she’s on a schedule. Tonight, she lets Nia in with the knowledge that she is hiding something not just from Kara but from Cat Grant. What could be so life altering that it needs to stay hidden?

“So what do you know about Luthor?”

“Oh. Well, bald. Dead. Makes long speeches. Kinda obsessed with guys in tights.”

“Not that Luthor,” Kara chides, though she knows Nia is only stalling.

“Right.”

“Are you avoiding work?”

She is. Kara knows it. Not just because they work together, but because she _does_ know Nia and enjoys that privilege. It’s almost like they’re friends. After all, she is the only one Kara would let inside her van, not that she would ever admit that to the kid.

Nia’s usually bright demeanor falters. She’s not very hard to read, exactly. One day, when they’re no longer hiding major truths from each other, maybe she’d have to teach this girl how to be more lowkey. It is a loud irony, but if she decides to live most of her life discreetly, she will have to learn.

Despite not being as careful as she’d like to be, all aliens have developed the ability to lie. If Kara knows something about lying, it’s that the ones that work best are founded on truths. And Nia is about to hand her truths. Whether she likes it or not.

“Aren’t you the one who’s supposed to know? As far as I know that’s how it works. I come to you for the facts. You give them to me. We puzzle over them until our brain cells fry. Then we do some team building activities.”

“We are not going to the arcade again, Nia. I have duties.”

“Right, communist activities then.”

“I am not a communist.”

“Maybe winning all the prizes and distributing them qualifies as communism. You got a kick out of it last time.”

“That’s because you baked me ‘special cookies’.”

“That you ate willingly! Come on. Cat doesn’t have to know everything.”

“It’s nine in the evening. How are you this active?”

“Says the person who used to play pranks on people at midnight.”

“‘Used to’ is correct.”

“Okay, okay. Whatever enlightenment you met that turned you into this grandma, I bet it would agree that you could use some fun.”

“I am not winning a bunch of arcade games for your entertainment.”

“Ok,” Nia says, exaggeratedly ballooning her mouth with a cloud of air and letting it out with a pop. “What do you have for me, then?”

_The best lies are the ones founded on truth._

“Lena is looking for The Blur. That’s probably why she’s here. She was last seen in Metropolis City carrying cat food for some reason. She has been here for a month, but has never registered in facial recognition except for that one time she was deposited at the emergency room driveway. The hospital says she was over fatigued. If there's any truth to that, it means she’s doing a lot of moving around without being detected. She’s most likely been enlisting some sort of concealment mechanism.”

“Oh, Kara. Are you losing your touch? Those are all just information I could’ve figured out myself.”

It’s a weak jab. She can sense Nia’s nerves through it.

“In addition, she’s either a very bad Luthor or very bad at being a Luthor,” Kara says.

“I don’t get it. Is there supposed to be a difference?”

“She could be poorly skilled at manipulation, but that might just be a sham considering she beat her brother’s GPAs and academic achievements. She’s an olympian fencer and a world champion at chess. Besides what her trophies say about her skills, her managing to stay lowkey despite all that speaks volumes. People know she exists, but nobody really knows anything else about her. With that kind of wits, she might just be better at scheming that she makes it seem like she’s no good at the psyops techniques her family developed.”

She watches Nia carefully for any reaction. If Nia and Lena are friends, she would be grating at any attack on the woman. It’s Lena, not Ms. Luthor for Nia, she recalls the woman saying.

“Maybe I’m not as good at my job,” Kara says. “Or she’s just too good at covering her tracks. If we are seeing any of her trails, it's likely intentional.”

“I get it. She _is_ pretty slippery.”

“Maybe it’s time I ask Winn for some help.”

A quick look of fear crosses Nia’s face. Perhaps Winn really is good enough to uncover the Luthor’s elusive digital footprints. Whatever secrets Lena and Nia share, Nia is definitely terrified that it would only take extra skills to dig up. Now, Kara knows she has no choice but to bother Winn Schott soon. To pretend that she’s distracted from that direction of logic, she introduces another.

“What about you? Don’t tell me you didn’t try poking around. You hardly let me do all the work except when Snapper dumps a shitload of assignments on you.”

“Well, I don’t know. Lena is most likely an alien sympathizer. She co-authored research that supports the observable progress aliens have led societies to in the recent decades. But you already looked that up. What I do have is her connection with banned devices. Remember the alien concealment device that can last up to twenty four hours before needing a recharge?

“Yeah, it’s the most promising alien concealment device. I only managed to steal fifteen prototype units after it was banned.”

Nia snorts, a memory coming to mind. “And the dragaaians have been doing a bad job at copying it. Remember when they accidentally turned themselves into fish?”

She laughs, despite herself. But she looks over at Nia, who is clearly hoping she successfully changed the topics.

“Why it’s banned, why it’s too difficult to make, and who made them—These are missing facts that all make up a case I haven’t solved.”

Probably realizing Kara is in her element tonight, Nia veers them back on track.

“And what’s the only other case you haven’t solved in three days?”

“Lena Luthor,” she says, surprisingly without contempt. “She could’ve made a lot of money and publicity from that. They could spin a story for her—the first pro-alien Luthor. That’s what corporations do these days—monetize identity politics. If it were Lena Luthor’s project she would simply not let it get discontinued.”

Nia shrugs, a poor copy of nonchalance. Kara damn well nearly points out that this is the first time she’s working with Nia while she blatantly lies to cover for someone other than herself.

“There could be a number of reasons,” Nia says.

“Yeah, I figured one of them is the military,” Kara says, impatient about all the data they’ve already gone through before. “The government would want to get their hands on the device in some capacity. Imagine what it could do for espionage. But that’s if the Luthor actually cares about it falling into the wrong hands.”

“Maybe she does,” Nia says, betraying her own stake at this. She tries to quickly recover. “Let’s not forget that the first approved prototypes were signed off by Jack Spheer of Spheerical Industries. It was the only undercover lapse or perhaps intentionally left out detail.”

“Yes, I checked him out. He's very much dead.”

“That he is. But the reason you found no connection to Luthor is because at that time, she was using different names.”

“Huh. Quite a lot of names then. But those names led to dead ends. How did you connect them to her?”

“I- I can’t disclose my source."

 _Really_? Kara wonders if this is how Nia plans to lie her way through all of this. "Uh- They're an L-corp employee.”

They eye each other, Nia suddenly looking far from the giddy colleague that entered her van.

“Fine,” Kara manages to say. “Don’t you find it strange, though, that Jack Spheer was suddenly involved in creating pro-alien devices for a decoy company when he already has one? It doesn’t make any sense.”

Nia, nearly snaps her neck in turning to Kara. “Why, is Jack anti-alien?”

“No, Nia. He’s a supporter as far as I know. He’s consistently raised alien issues in science conventions. But anyone who cares about aliens would never create devices for them as carelessly.”

 _Unless, that was on purpose,_ Kara thinks. She mulls this over by herself, no longer comfortable in including Nia now that there’s at least one glaring lie between them.

"So are you not going to tell me what Snapper does when he's in a good mood?"

* * *

Kara wonders if this is her life now. If at every turn where she thinks she has the upper hand, the Luthor would find a way to pull the rug from under her. She must say she’s new to this, being the smartest person in the city. After all, she managed to outsmart Lex without even revealing her existence to him. Twice.

She tried to follow up on Nia’s leads. Whatever the younger reporter disclosed could either be a coded plea for help, or a misdirection, depending on where her loyalties lie.

When she opened up the case on the alien concealment prototype, it took her hours to find something that's even remotely useful. What she found is a familiar, recurring string of code. They were authored from incognito browsers on fake accounts to make concealed purchases. The locatios are VPN masked to make it appear like they're transactions in Singapore.

Could Lena Luthor have made an amateur mistake? Kara already did that a few times when she hacked into someone else’s phone to order donuts via Postmates. Granted, she was new to the whole secret life, but surely experts make mistakes sometimes. Just like Lena Luthor overestimating the value of prepaid credit cards and VPNs.

Perhaps she can finally dig up her secrets. Kara was only allowed a few seconds of victory before she noticed one obvious detail—the dates. Of course, Lena Luthor, who managed to stay undercover since childhood did not just make the amateur mistake. Not when these purchases were made the same day Lena made Kara follow her around the city.

The Luthor deliberately used traceable patterns to send a message and at the same time let Kara know that she's always steps ahead. To test her hunch, she aligned the signature string of each transaction. She took the first letter that corresponded to each unit, and sure enough, when put next to each other, they spelled out a recognizable alphanumeric phrase: 

1930H C0fFEe? 87325464

“That woman,” Kara says, her head hanging between her shoulders.

* * *

She double checks what she scribbled down on her forearm. 1930H is for the time, and the eight-digit number can only be coordinates. That’s how Kara found herself uphill overlooking the East of National City just when the sun is about to set. Just at the fringes of the land mass, she could spot the beginnings of Midvale. Could that have been Luthor’s reason for choosing this spot? Could this particular detail be part of setting the mood the Luthor way? Could she perhaps be overthinking this? Just as she was beginning to think that the alphanumeric line she decoded might just be a big fat coincidence, she sensed movement from behind her.

“Don’t you like the view here?”

She does. Kara does. It’s one of the spots she would let herself run (or fly) to just to think about nothing. She still has no idea what meditation entails, but here, she’d like to think she may have done some semblance of it. The view is breathtaking, rivalled only by the view from the DEO tower. If it weren’t for the road block a few miles down, it would’ve easily been a make out spot. She thinks Lena must’ve come to National City before her big move if she knew about this place.

It doesn't escape her that the chosen location is practically a cliff, nearly a thousand feet above sea-level. Unless there's kryptonite lying around, it's Kara's comfort zone more than Lena's. Kara takes it as a sign that it can only get more confusing from here.

The Luthor in question joins her. They stand next to each other without ceremony, without greeting. Save of course for the promised cup of coffee she offers Kara. It’s from Noonan’s. It’s been so long since she’d had anything from there. Could Lena have known this, too?

“I told you if you wanted to buy me a drink, you should’ve just asked.”

“I did,” Lena says, a little too proud of herself.

“Could you be any more dramatic?”

“What about code is dramatic?”

“Oh, just about everything in warfare history.”

She faces the Luthor, who is apparently wearing a brown leather jacket, her hair down for the first time since she first saw her. She decides that she likes it before she can ruminate further on why the hell she’s thinking about Lena’s soft, dark hair.

“Why not the bar?”

“I’m not exactly M’gann’s favorite person right now.”

“What makes you think you’re mine?”

“I may have been dramatic enough to ask you in code, but you were just as invested. At least enough to crack it anyway.”

“That’s because Cat Grant paid me to dig up information, remember?”

“Didn’t I leave you an envelope with double that amount?”

“Yeah, about that, you can have it back.”

“No, Kara. Just keep it. I’ll be staying in this city for a long while. If this city is anything like Metropolis, then I know that eventually, I’ll come to owe you. Consider it an advance payment.”

“How about you just pay me with answers?”

“Where do I start?”

“Well, you embedded your little code in the alien concealment device documents. You obviously know where to start.”

“Oh that project. Yes, I’m rather proud of that.”

“Are you kidding me? That was a disaster. It was banned. And the only prototypes you had were stolen.”

“By you, no less.”

“And I gave half of it to the alien doctors and nurses. And the other half to the alien-human alliance that wanted to start their own schools.”

“Yes, like I said. I’m rather proud of it.”

Kara finds that she’s gaping at Lena like a fish. She shuts her mouth, as an onslaught of information tells her the single most important fact of the matter.

“You- you designed them to be stolen?”

“By you, yes,” Lena says, not giving much space for misunderstanding. “It was the only way to release it to the right hands."

“I didn’t give any of it to- to Kryptonians, if that’s what you were banking on.”

“It was," Lena admits. "But I guess the ones you gave them to need them the most.”

“Didn’t you make more?”

“Besides the few I managed to keep, I could make more. But as I’m sure you’ll agree with, it’s not meant to be mass produced or sold. Even for aliens. I made sure that it has a quantum property that no one knows how to replicate. Yet.”

Kara looks away, taking in the sight of shorelines. Maybe Lena chose this view as a buffer of sorts. From the corner of her eyes, she can see Lena’s dimples, byproducts of her infuriatingly cheeky smiles.

“What’s wrong? Too old to believe in magic?”

“Too old to believe you.”

“Well, did you want one? I honestly thought you’d at least keep a unit. Since you have a secret identity as The Girl. It works on humans, too. You’ll practically look the same but you won't register in facial recognition. Even the natural human capability to recognize faces will be foiled."

Kara watched her closely as she explained the mechanism. To Luthor’s credit, she _does_ seem very proud of it.

"What it does is it analyzes how your atoms are arranged recognizably and releases vibrations to distort that. It creates a dissonance in perception, or as my lab partner used to argue, 'a delay in persistence of vision'. Of course he's wrong and I'm right.”

She wonders if that lab partner is Jack Spheer. But she can tell that now is not the time for that question.

“To put it simply, it can hide your face without the help of a mask. I do hope that even if you accept the device, I'd still get to recognize your face, though. It wouldn't be so bad to get used to.”

Kara tries to ignore her blatantly contrived flirting. She almost splits a grin wondering if seduction is yet another Luthor tactic she’s bad at. To be fair, she doesn’t need to be good at it. Not when she has that ridiculously well chiseled face.

Their faces are lit by the amber shades of the setting sun. Anyone who can look at them now could easily think they’re on a coffee date watching the sunset. But they’re not on a date on a cliff. The view is merely a means to make the half-truths and trepidation look a bit better. Why else would the Luthor bring her here?

“So that’s why you’re telling me all this, then. Are you offering me a concealment device in exchange for what you want?”

“Sure. But Kara, you do know that knowledge is power, don’t you?”

“Not in the mood for riddles, miss.”

“It’s not a riddle. Here," Lena says, taking out a tiny device from her pocket. For a second, Kara thinks she managed to find a way to shrink the concealment device. Lena glances at her, and as if reading her mind, she sets her right.

"No, I'll give you the device in my lab, Kara. This here, is a recorder. I've been recording our entire conversation. It's yours now. Whether or not you agree to help me find The Blur, you now have incriminating information you can use to threaten me with. I thought that could make you feel a little safer around me.”

That, in particular, gnaws at Kara's insides. Regardless of whether or not this is all a scheme, Lena’s easy association between threat and safety is very telling of how Lena was raised. 

“You- you mean so that I’ll have leverage?”

Kara stares at the woman who seems genuinely confused by her reaction.

“Yeah, leverage. Isn’t that something you use to get the upper hand in your dealings?”

“Huh. You’re either really bad or really good at this game.”

Lena puts her slender index finger on her lips, pretending to mull it over.

“I don’t know about this, but you’re welcome to find what _other_ games I’m good at.”

“What?”

“What?”

Despite Lena having been the one to make a pass, a blush creeps up from her neck all the way to her forehead. The tease was even an improvement to her earlier attempts but it seems to fluster Lena the most. She is so pink, her skin matches the horizon.

“So is that how you found me?” If Kara were being honest, she’d admit this is a show of mercy. She doesn’t know what to do with a genuinely blushing Luthor.

“Yes,” Lena affirms almost too quickly. She sounds grateful for the change of topic. “You were poking around for information on the prototypes.”

“You mean the ones I stole?”

“The ones I _let_ you steal.”

“But how did you link my digital footprint to Kara Danvers? I was just the masked girl at the scene of the crime.”

“Oh, it was the donuts you ordered online.”

“Seriously? That was _one_ time. Why is it always that donut moment that gives me away?”

“Are you always this adorable?”

“I am not adorable. I’m- 

“What, dangerous? I sure hope so.”

Kara’s got to give it to her. She’s relentless. And if Kara were being honest, she’d admit she was giving Lena some encouragement. What with the helpless staring, and her gaze lingering on Lena’s chest. But that’s _if_ Kara were being honest.

“Are you always like- like this?”

“Like what?”

“God, you’re impossible.”

Lena laughs, the sound, at this point, already imprinted in Kara’s heart.

“You’ll also find that I am in fact, very reasonable,” the woman says when she eases out of the giggling.

“Prove it.”

“I’m not a kid who can be goaded into doing things. My ego is big, but it’s not that big.”

“Fine. Don’t say I never asked you nicely.”

The Luthor gives her a close lipped, dimpled smile, which fades the moment Kara _does_ ask nicely.

“What do you want from The Blur?”

“That’s between her and me.”

“What about that is reasonable?”

“You’re aware of my skills. I don’t mean to brag-

-Of course you mean to brag.”

-I can find her without you. I’ll eventually find her. I just think she should at least be granted the decency of making that decision whether or not she’s seeing me, and only _you_ can give her that out.”

“Am I supposed to believe that _you_ believe in such courtesies?”

“Have I granted you any less?”

“Weren’t you listening to our call recording? The Kryptonian and I didn’t exactly get off on the right foot,” Kara says, relieved that despite all the confusion, she's still able to lie and tell the truth at the same time.

“Whatever went wrong between you two before, she’ll trust you before she can think to trust a Luthor. Just think about it, Danvers. Let’s say I really don’t care about decency. If I just show up in her space, digital or otherwise, she might not hesitate to retaliate. I’d be lucky if she simply refuses to listen to what I have to say, which, in itself I cannot afford to happen.”

They look at each other for a very long time. The sun has almost set by now. Kara wonders if there’s enough light to betray the truth in her eyes—that she has already made a decision before coming here.

There probably isn’t, because Lena looks down. She takes a deep breath, as if to brace herself for rejection.

“So, will you do it?”

Kara waits for Lena to meet her eyes again before speaking.

“I’ll see what I can do, Luthor.” She tries to say her last name with spite as usual, but she can tell it does nothing to keep hope from Lena’s eyes. 

“But like I said,” Kara continues, not without difficulty. “I can and will stop you, if I need to.”

Lena only smiles wider, and quite honestly, that should be Kara’s cue to leave.

“Thank you for the coffee.”

She only said that to make it the end of it— the period to their rather clumsy conversation. But then she realizes they both might have parked their vehicles by the same road. She senses Luthor catching up to her.

“Please don’t walk beside me."

“But our vehicles are in the same place.”

“I didn’t see another car near mine.”

Lena doesn’t speak, in all likelihood letting Kara figure it out.

“Oh. Right. You and camouflage tech,” Kara says. “Well, walk ahead of me, then.”

“Why, so you can watch me from behind?”

It’s Kara’s turn to get flustered. She already agreed that Lena's as good as got herself a deal, _so why is this woman still flirting with her?_

“No, because I don’t trust you enough to let you walk behind me.”

“Right. You and Luthors,” Lena says, sounding far from offended. She starts her own ridiculously slow descent down the hill. “Enjoy the view I guess.”

“Oh, come _on_.”

Despite her supposed complaints, Kara _does_ exert extra effort to keep her eye level above Lena’s shoulders.

* * *

Thank you for reading! [Twitter](https://twitter.com/ChaoticVirgo2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes ok I may have overwritten this. This chapter was supposed to just include one SC meeting but I just had to introduce Nia and add the second SC meeting here instead of next week. Writing leisurely has been doing wonders for my mental health, and I hope reading this is helping you unwind in some way, too!  
> 


	4. The Invisible Woman

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Thank you for reading on! Your comments also mean a lot to me. So much so that I'm posting this nearly a day earlier than usual.  
> Here’s Lena finally meeting Kara as The Blur and laying out her plans  
> (With a little bit of intro to Kelly, Streaky the van, Lena's version of risky texts, the Luthor Manor and Kara’s pod trauma)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This Kara is a tad bit smarter than canon because she actually puts on a mask after just having met Lena as Kara Danvers lol a ridiculous mask though.  
> Anyway… 
> 
> The Invisible Woman is a reference to the HG Wells novel adapted 13 times in film and TV. The scientist is invisible without clothes on, so wrapping himself in the bandage-type fabric and a coat is his way to be seen. That is his least dangerous state—visible.
> 
> CW : implied claustrophobia, self-worth issues

It’s been a while since Kara’s had a proper bowl of noodles that’s not from Dimsum Central. She appreciates the free food but she only ever liked their potstickers. They probably wouldn’t get mad at her for telling them so, but she imagines they might cry. They’ve had years of thinking they’re the best in their side of the city and everyone’s just too polite to say something about it.

Now that she’s got both Luthor and Grant’s advance payment, splurging a bit wouldn’t hurt. Under the mask, Kara smiles thinking that visiting the other Cantonese restaurant at the other side of the outskirts is a good idea. That is until she freezes, sending her bag of liquid takeout in a see-saw motion from the sudden halt.

Looking through the racks of Starhaven, a fruit stand owned by someone from the planet called, well, Starhaven, is a ghost of Kara’s past. Besides stories from Kelly Olsen’s brother, she shouldn’t really know enough for this to be a haunting. But both him and Kal-el have urged her to see the therapist just after her Red Kryptonite incident. Both of them she ignored.

As if the human didn’t already have enough baggage from other aliens to navigate. Alien trauma is quite different from that of humans. She imagines requiring Kelly to deal with a Kryptonian like her can’t be any good for whatever stability she’s obviously managed as a therapist for the extraterrestrial refugees.

Even on the less alien-populated side of the outskirts, Kelly seems to draw attention. Kara gathers from the friendly way the store owner and the other humanoid customer greet her that the therapist definitely has inspired some hope among the community. Kara recognizes those looks because that’s not so different from how the people used to look at her. They have undoubtedly availed Dr. Olsen’s pay-what-you-can therapy sessions.

Barring the reminder of what The Girl used to mean to these residents, the spark is almost enough for Kara to believe she can make something of her wreckage, too. Almost. But like always, she doesn’t let herself dwell on that. If going to a therapist fails to help, what does that make of Kara?

In her periphery, she can see a man stopping in his tracks at the sight of Kelly. There’s no way to tell if he is indeed human, but the weighted glance he throws at Kelly reminds her of the threat that the woman still poses among some of them. Some folks from the bar were outspokenly distrustful of Kelly. They say she’s a human pawn harvesting alien secrets. Kara would think that, too, if she weren’t James’ sister. Of course, she still went on her thorough background check, but she can’t exactly go around telling people she found nothing on the woman.

She chances a proper look at the man who stopped a few feet from her. Probably sensing that he’s being watched, he finally pries his eyes away from Kelly and returns the kryptonian’s stare. Whether it was from the realization that his look of distrust only doubled at the sight of the masked girl, or the fear of seeing the same look on Kelly, Kara finally turns to walk away.

* * *

Kara sighs from the only small victory of the night. Despite mostly walking in place of superspeeding all the way, the 15 minutes it took to reach her van didn’t take much heat from her noodles. She didn’t want to have to reheat it herself. Kal-el once told her not to worry about food getting cold because when controlled, kryptonian eyes are practically portable microwaves. But she could always taste the difference. She thinks to invest in an insulated lunchbox soon. Like, actually purchase a new one. There’s only so much she can salvage from the junk.

Kara slides the van’s creaky door closed and floats to the only comfortable seating inside. The bed that doubles as a dining area is at least a foot too high to simply sit on. There are no steps to help one climb on to it. No such thing is necessary for someone who can suspend the law of gravity. Once she’s drifted upwards, rested on the bed, and kicked off her shoes, Kara props her feet up, folding them under her as she faces the headboard.

The headboard being the top fifteen inches of a blue school locker that the bed is backed into. When Kara found it in a public school clean out, it showed signs of rusting and its front was badly dented. Basically, nothing defends it from being dumped among the to-throw away pile. But Kara has found it. It’s high enough to tower a few feet higher than the bed. Its door is faced outwards so that it functions as both a locker, and a headboard, the top of which is a surface big enough to host a solo meal. Before she dives into her still warm meal, she remembers to take off her jacket, and throws it over her shoulder knowing whatever surface it might land on wouldn’t be so bad.

Streaky is definitely no RV, but it’s far from unlivable. The ceiling is just high enough for Kara to stand in her full height. Her hair almost touches the roof when she does, but that’s still a hell of a lot more space than the pod she got stuck in for decades. The van also provides enough comfort and heating while requiring maintenance as low as engine coolants, a wrench, and a buttload of disinfectants.

She still has to do most forms of washing in public bathroom sinks. There is no actual pipe system, no sink, and no contraptions that you can extend out and fold away as needed. It was nothing like whatever they’d show you on Mobile Living. But it does the job of keeping Kara off the streets and off confrontations she’ll never be ready for.

For a little over three years, her home has mostly been a junk chimaera. The parts were all butchered from other equipment. A washing machine’s round glass door for instance, has become a second sunroof so that Kara can see the stars while she sleeps. It’s installed over the side of the van that’s eaten up by the bed. Underneath the mattress of which is a huge radiator casing that she hollowed out to house her clothes and supplies. The rest of her tools go into the locker.

The other side, of course, explains how she managed to put together apparatuses for monitoring, communicating, and well, attacking. It’s somewhat of a mini lab and a control center for her own digital and mechanical tinkering. She has a slab of aluminum from an old catering job for a table, and she would’ve eaten there if not for the unfinished devices hogging most of the surface. The magnifying lamp clamped on the desk is still hovering over the parts, the usual evidence that Kara is not satisfied with her work.

Next to it is a small station that could surely use a better organization system for wires. Her laptop is not turned on but it’s drawn open, plugged into the power source Kara managed to connect to the gasoline tank. Hooked up to the sleeping laptop is a dock nesting the three disk drives of the month. Half of which are emptied out in hopes of storing Luthor secrets. It’s been several days and it’s still practically empty.

She has more disks full of government and syndicate secrets stowed away under the desk and on the shelves she managed to mount above the work area. All of which are programmed to self-destruct at three wrong password attempts. All this work, Kara has done without a chair because she mostly “sits” on air.

The times when her experiments and construction require more space, M’gann lets her sneak into the empty hangar in her landlord’s compound. She can’t exactly keep hauling mammoth sized equipment to the Fortress of Solitude in the open air no matter how easy that would actually be. The only time she risks flying with something bigger than herself is if it needs the quantum processors.

She still hasn’t gathered enough to build a lab in the fortress, and she doesn’t have her own cargo plane. She has wondered idly these past couple of days what kind of work she’d have to do for Lena Luthor to get her to to pay her the biggest plane in her hangar. It was one of the few things she managed to find out about the woman. Of course, in the same vein of thinking, she had to chalk that up to wishful thinking. She’s not about to give the Luthor more means to monitor her.

In case she is ever compromised, Kara dug up a hole in the cave of the same hill Lena took her to. The small bunker drilled into that hole contains the rest of the devices she supposedly built against CADMUS. Now it’s mostly a chamber reminding her of the alien livelihoods she might as well have traded off in exchange for resources from the police.

Once Kara is finished eating, she puts away the used paper bowl and utensils, and hops off the bed, not bothering to dull her landing. She opens the locker to take a toothbrush, a jar of charcoal toothpaste she made herself, and a glass bottle of water out. Taking care of her teeth and bladder requires not more than a few seconds of hassle when she’s parked somewhere in nature.

Tonight, that’s where she is. Still not believing that Lena’s choice of meeting place is random, she returned to the same hill and parked farther from the paved road. It’s not a bad place to stay at and monitor if the Luthor had other attachments to the place. If she were to return, Kara would be able to easily hear her with or without camouflage tech. Maybe Kara isn’t the only one hiding something in the hills.

A part of her doubts any appearances of that sort would happen tonight. Lena should be preparing for her flight. Kara knows this mostly because she agreed to meet Lena as The Blur tomorrow on the other side of the country. She sent the undesirable coordinates for the meetup using her no-reply email. Tit for tat. Kara smiles imagining Lena’s irritation at not being able to send her a message.

She never could have predicted that she’d have to appear as her superpowered self to Lena Luthor. She just _had_ to give the woman something she also would not have seen coming. You know, just to be fair.

Finally freshened up and ready to fall in what she knows would only be half asleep, Kara sits on bed trying to empty her thoughts of what tomorrow could confirm.

And then she gets an email. _Damn it._ She watches her laptop wake up from the notification and hops off the bed to read.

[[wellyoutried@nicetry.sg ](mailto:wellyoutried@nicetry.sg)10:42pm]

_Hi._

That’s it? Hi? Lena Luthor went through the trouble of reversing her email blocking system just to say hi?

[[dnd@noreply.tg](mailto:dnd@noreply.tg) 10:42pm]

_Hi?_

[[wellyoutried@nicetry.sg ](mailto:wellyoutried@nicetry.sg)10:43pm]

_So you got me an appointment with The Blur_

[[dnd@noreply.tg](mailto:dnd@noreply.tg) 10:43pm]

_What else would the coordinates be for?_

[[wellyoutried@nicetry.sg ](mailto:wellyoutried@nicetry.sg)10:43pm]

_Idk. Another date spot?_

[[dnd@noreply.tg](mailto:dnd@noreply.tg) 10:43pm]

_You wish. Just so we’re clear, the coordinates are for you and you-know-who’s appointment._

[[wellyoutried@nicetry.sg ](mailto:wellyoutried@nicetry.sg)10:43pm]

 _Yes, and real talk, I’m grateful. That was quick. Maybe she_ ** _is_** _in National City afterall_

[[wellyoutried@nicetry.sg ](mailto:wellyoutried@nicetry.sg)10:43pm]

_Lol_

[[wellyoutried@nicetry.sg ](mailto:wellyoutried@nicetry.sg)10:45pm]

_LOL means laughing out loud._

_Why you-_ She’s an alien, not a grandmother.

[[wellyoutried@nicetry.sg ](mailto:wellyoutried@nicetry.sg)10:45pm]

_You know what? National City sure is not the most creative with names. The Blur. The Girl. What’s next, The Thing?_

[[dnd@noreply.tg](mailto:dnd@noreply.tg) 10:47pm]

_This is a no-reply email._

[[wellyoutried@nicetry.sg ](mailto:wellyoutried@nicetry.sg)10:47pm]

_And?_

[[dnd@noreply.tg](mailto:dnd@noreply.tg) 10:47pm]

_We’re not having a conversation. You’re not even supposed to be able to reply. How are you overriding this?_

[[wellyoutried@nicetry.sg ](mailto:wellyoutried@nicetry.sg)10:47pm]

_You still haven’t figured out I’m a genius?_

[[dnd@noreply.tg](mailto:dnd@noreply.tg) 10:47pm]

_Just that you’re impossible._

[[wellyoutried@nicetry.sg ](mailto:wellyoutried@nicetry.sg)10:47pm]

_That’s an astute observation. Tell me, how much exactly have you been observing me?_

[[dnd@noreply.tg](mailto:dnd@noreply.tg) 10:48pm]

_Go to sleep. Don’t you have a flight?_

[[wellyoutried@nicetry.sg ](mailto:wellyoutried@nicetry.sg)10:48pm]

_Well you’re no fun._

[[dnd@noreply.tg](mailto:dnd@noreply.tg) 10:48pm]

_I’ll have you know I’m quite fun._

[[wellyoutried@nicetry.sg ](mailto:wellyoutried@nicetry.sg)10:48pm]

_Why don’t you show me what that means some time?_

[[wellyoutried@nicetry.sg ](mailto:wellyoutried@nicetry.sg)11:06pm]

_Since you’re not answering that, what’s the deal with you and The Blur?_

[[dnd@noreply.tg](mailto:dnd@noreply.tg) 11:08pm]

_I thought I implied that you need to stop replying._

[[wellyoutried@nicetry.sg ](mailto:wellyoutried@nicetry.sg)11:08pm]

_It wasn’t a reply. I was embarking on a new topic._

Kara almost bites her tongue. Maybe the next time she gets a pebble in her shoe, she’ll name it Lena Luthor.

[[wellyoutried@nicetry.sg ](mailto:wellyoutried@nicetry.sg)11:09pm]

Well? You and The Blur. What happened to you two?

[[wellyoutried@nicetry.sg ](mailto:wellyoutried@nicetry.sg)11:10pm]

Are you there?

Sorry. Umbrageous topic. Got it.

Anyway, I just want to ask one more thing

Are you sure you sent the right coordinates?

Kara breaks into a smile at that. Her no-reply system failure was almost worth it. Maybe the noodles she got to eat warm isn’t the only victory of the night. At that thought, she moves to shut her laptop so she can finally climb on her bed when—

[[wellyoutried@nicetry.sg ](mailto:wellyoutried@nicetry.sg)11:11pm]

Oh look it’s 11:11. Did you wish for anything?

* * *

Metropolis is almost on the extreme opposite end of the country. Unbeknownst to its citizens, the two cities are both home to their respective kryptonian. What they share in common does not stop there. One would only have to look at the steadily rising unemployment rate, lack of a stable healthcare system, and desperate crimes by desperate citizens to know that Metropolis and National City are on the same boat.

Kara would often argue with Kal-el that although he keeps the streets of Metropolis clean, there is still no improvement in the gap between the wealthy and the poor.

Mayor Morrisroe also painted street crimes, drugs, and rogue aliens as the main problem of the city, and played the hero by installing security cameras in every corner. Kal could not possibly take any liking to it either. She looks at him wondering what other apprehensions he might have in going home. It’s the first time they’re flying alongside each other in years and she doesn’t know if his not-so-straight flight path is due to his recent injury or nerves.

“Kara, what are you up to?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, to start, you’re dressed like The Invisible Man.”

“Well, unlike you in your pathetic, mask-less suit, I happen to be better at disguises.”

Kal doesn’t have a reply to that. Kara drops her gaze, focusing instead on the boats loosely dotting the lake below.

“Why are you flying with me to Metropolis? Don’t you insist on staying in National City in case Jeremiah comes back now that CADMUS has practically announced itself?”

“So you admit he might still be alive.”

“That’s not- I’m sorry.”

“You just got your powers back,” she tries, not really knowing where she’s going with this. “I just wanted to make sure you’re, you know, not going to zonk out like last time.” Poor, simple Clark may already be buying her excuse. That was an embarrassing enough memory. But just to be sure, she had to distract him with something else. “Might as well drop by and say hi to your hopeless crush. What’s her name again? Lois?”

Kal's eyes widen, his fists tightening probably at the effort of keeping himself from yelling at her to mind her own business.

“Oof. Sensitive topic? Well, if you need advice, I’ll be around for like, a day.”

“Shut up, Kara.”

“That’s more like it.”

* * *

The Luthor mansion is the only place in Metropolis that doesn’t have functioning security cameras left. Well, at least not the ones owned by the state. She halts to a clumsy stop in front of the huge oak door, the sprawling patterns teasing out her only memories of this place.

Kal-el needed an assist once or twice. Lex probably went to his grave not knowing who helped Kal escape his torture and who stole his kryptonite generator. On both occasions, it was supposed to be the end for Superman. Nia was right. The bald man really did enjoy making speeches a little too much.

Kara shakes her head and plants her feet on the soft ground. She shouldn’t waste any more time reminiscing. So she listens. Not the kind of listening wherein you merely let the consenting sounds come to you but the invasive kind that leaves no secrets unturned.

Usually, she begins lightly, grasping the air around her body, gradually extending through barriers and descending to deeper layers. That’s how Jeremiah and Eliza both taught her to start with everything. Gradually.

But with the manor brooding in the middle of the expanse, the memories of Lex, a man she never even met can only persist. She just needs this to be over already. She’d know her own limits better than her parents ever did. There is no time for easing in. She stands her ground and with hardly any pause, she reaches. She catapults her full sonic force instantaneously, going straight to every possible pathway of electric wires and pipes in the mansion. She finds no no security cameras, no leaks, electric functions whatsoever. 

She pushes even further, remembering how tricky Lex can be even from the grave. Count on him to have a plan Z in case Plan A-Y doesn’t work. It would make sense for fail-safes to be crawling in the manor, just biding time. 

But she would be able to hear them. She digs farther and deeper and finally descends to the basement. It was where he held Kal-el captive, surrounded by kryptonite that could’ve easily killed her, too had she not swallowed her pride and anonymously tipped the DEO.

She’s already far in the basement. It wouldn’t hurt to latch on to every surface. Just one more and she’ll get out, she finds herself promising to no one in particular. There’s nothing. The manor is a dead vessel. Perhaps forcing Lena to return here is a little too much.

Thinking herself thorough enough, Kara finally opens her eyes. But it’s dark. Not like the night, but like… nothing. She sees nothing, and hears nothing. She takes a few steps forward and yells Lena’s name, almost hoping this dark is just another fail safe set off in her carelessness.

Perhaps she was trapped in a box or thrown an especially dark smoke grenade. Tentatively, she takes several steps thinking she’ll eventually hit a surface. She doesn’t. It must be a big box then.

But whether she could gain ground or make a sound, there is no way to tell. There is no voice, no distance, just pitch black darkness, boundless and finally, regrettably, familiar. _No, no, no._ She gets a grip of herself, takes a deep breath, and exhales as if to ease her nerves.

Except there are no nerves. At least she can’t feel them. She hurriedly tests her awareness.

_Where are you?_

“The Luthor manor”

_That’s a good start. You know where you are. Why are you here?_

“I don’t know”

_Oh no._

That’s it. She just might be losing it. Oddly enough, she remembers Lena’s smile. It’s true, is it not? Kara still does not know why she’s here despite her setting the appointment. That’s the truth, not a mere loss of awareness. _Focus._

She slaps herself. Great. Now she can’t even feel her palm. Now is not the time to lose the sense of touch.

_What is happening right now?_

“I’m stuck in a hyperfocus limbo. If there’s anything worse than the merciless bludgeoning sounds of the city, it’s getting stuck on deafening silence. I’m stuck on a hyperfocus limbo is all,” she repeats.

Kara relaxes slightly, learning that she can still recite the signs of her condition. She must’ve fallen to her knees because she stoops forward and suddenly, her hands are on grass. She can feel it on her hands, as her weight depends on them to stay above the ground that she cannot see.

At least she can still touch something other than herself. The reprieve is short lived when the urgency of the next step after establishing awareness catches up to her. She can still hear her own voice. Wait, can she? Or was she just talking in her head?

Superman would know what to do. But Superman isn’t here. Jeremiah isn’t here. _Alex_ isn’t here. And it’s her fault. Perhaps it’s not Kal-el that shouldn't be left alone in Metropolis after all. _Alone_. She’s alone. Back in the miniscule pod where there is only darkness upon darkness. Nightmare after nightmare after nightmare. She convulses, a sign that her body is fighting to make her aware that she is on solid ground, and not in a pod ship hurtling to Rao knows where.

Nonetheless, she might as well be. She is back to nowhere and it’s her fault. A wave of cold stillness hits her, and she buckles. Her body stops convulsing. Stops fighting. Perhaps it’s better to let it take away her consciousness. It's better than being once again painfully awake in a suffocating nothingness.

She’s about to let go when she hears it. At first it’s faint, throbbing from what feels like lightyears away. It’s weak but it has no signs of stopping. No, she is not alone.

It’s almost too far, almost as faint as the sound of the moon on a good night. That makes her smile. Her kind has always favored the sun. But more than a few times, she found herself spellbound by the moon. The eternal burning of the gaseous star is too far to hear, but the dense moon? It’s near enough to hum a constant background to life on earth. Its music is unreachable, yet ever present.

It’s tempting to get lost in the analogy, a temporary relief in this nightmare. But the word tugs at her as if it’s supposed to be important. _unreachable_. Suddenly, she remembers the next step. “No matter how far it is, you must reach for it. Only your senses are in limbo. Outside of that, life just goes on. Once you find any signs of that, you reach.”

The memory of Kal having to be the one _teaching_ her this when she finally crashed on earth bristles at her pride. She remembers how easy he spoke of it. His mouth was full. He was eating cereals without milk, picking up each piece as if tearing through a box of chips.

Of course he doesn’t know what it’s like. He wasn’t stuck in a pod for twenty four years. To add salt to the wound, what Kara remembers more than the lessons is the fact that he has never stuck around long enough to teach her anything.

She is angry. Just plain angry. Almost filled with as much resentment as Red Kryptonite once granted.

Finally. Feelings other than despair. That should be good. She sets aside her pride and tries to remember what else he said. “Keep listening no matter what. Keep reaching, and when you’ve reached it, hold on. Never let go no matter the circumstance” _or lack thereof,_ she notes, because that’s just a thing Kara would say.

 _Kara_. Had it not been too long ago that her name escaped a strange woman’s lips? A drink was involved somehow. Whiskey was it? Somewhere in the middle of wanting a sip and a fleeting scent of pinewoods she didn’t even recall seeing on her way to the manor, Kara finds herself reaching. She’s not even sure it’s a heartbeat, but there’s nothing to do but to reach.

She clenches her fists, feeling it uproot some grass that she still cannot see. The grass. She can smell the grass. Pinewood. Grapeseed oil. The Luthor manor. There’s a heartbeat in Luthor’s mansion. The Luthors. Lena. The scent of her skin.

Finally, slowly, she centers herself as a point of reference. There’s only one human heartbeat within the 3-mile radius besides her own. Somewhere within that radius is a balcony. She senses its exact origin and wills herself to hold on. _Never let go_. Of course, Lena is alone. The sole heir to this abandoned ten-acre mass of land. It wouldn’t hurt to close her eyes, and take in several breaths to match the rhythm, so she does.

When she opens her eyes, she’s back. The ground leading to the steps to the huge door lay before her. She uproots more grass and stares at them as if to test if they’re real. The wind blows them away from her hand. She gasps in delight when it leaves ugly stains on her palm. This is ridiculous.

She straightens up and whirls around. The sky is just as blue as she remembers it. There is nobody next to her. The last time she was in a limbo, it was Alex and some yelling that saved her. Now, did she really manage to finally pull herself out by herself?

Then she hears it again. It was a softer involuntary sound that woke her up. It is then that a realization sets off her own heartbeat. Her chests constricts. She shouldn’t have been saved by the soft friction of Lena’s heartbeat against the sound of rustling leaves, but she was. It horrified her almost as much as getting stuck in the darkness did.

It’s probably as good of a reason to not take any step further. But now that her senses are back, she can hear the heartbeat quicken. If the basement alone brought Kara unpleasant memories, every corner is probably doing far worse to Lena. She looks up again at what she just confirmed is a dead vessel. She can’t imagine growing up here to be any pleasant.

Kara first chose this location to send a message, to make sure Lena knows that The Blur has helped Kal surpass the smartest of Lex’s games. It was a trick move on the chess board. Even Alex would approve. Now, she’s not so sure. Where there should’ve been pride, there is only guilt. It didn’t matter that not a single Luthor in known history ever played fair.

Before she could talk herself out of it, she launches herself up, not quite flying, and lands on the balcony. She finds Lena’s back yet again turned to her. The heiress of this entire emptiness is staring at a small statue. It looks too much like the statues in Krypton, except it’s probably the likeness of a goddess, not a queen.

Kara just stands there, watching her watch it. Lena must have heard her landing moments ago, because without moving, she breaks the silence.

“You _are_ kryptonian,” Lena says by way of greeting. “You wouldn’t invite me to my own property otherwise,” She scoffs. “Only your kind would harbor enough grudge to make me get on a plane and fly all the way to this…”

Kara doesn’t have time to suspect what that might mean because Lena turns. She turns and then she freezes. Whatever preface she must’ve prepared for the kryptonian seems to be lost on her. Kara stands her ground, not doing any better.

Lena, for the first time since she saw her at the highway stop looks immaculately put together. A coat almost the color of deoxygenated blood hangs from her shoulders. It’s dark enough that the contrast against her pale skin is almost shocking. Her hair parts far on the side and falls loosely on her shoulders. If Kara wasn’t sure before, seeing Lena with wide eyes, soft parted lips, wind rustled hair, heartbeats quickening, confirms that she’s no longer in a limbo or some dream.

And Kara is... she just _had_ to come in her sophomore year’s halloween costume—Bandages wrapped around every visible limb, a beige coat, and of course, a hat. Lena hasn’t moved an inch, perhaps trying to make sense of it. Kara bites her lips to remind herself that she put this on to poke fun at the Luthor’s games. While it made sense to hide her identity, dismissing any Luthor's agenda as a joke felt more pressing. It was supposed to be salt to whatever wound the meet up location opened, a jest in deliberately bad taste.

It takes work to be notably threatening, but again, she fears she might have overdone it. Until the woman before her loses it. Lena once again erupts into laughter. Just pure, uninhibited glee. The bandages covering Kara’s face tighten and she realizes she’s smiling like an idiot. She briefly wonders if Lena can tell, but the woman can’t even look at her long enough without breaking into another fit of giggles. 

“You’re dressed like The Invisible Man,” Lena says, addressing the obvious.

It was then that it occurred to Kara that she may or may not have worn the costume because she wanted to hear that laugh again.

“No wonder no one can find you. Wait are you actually invisible underneath all that? Is that a lesser known kryptonian ability?”

Kara opens her mouth and remembers she’s not supposed to be talking. Her voice modulator broke under her own freeze breath at a particularly grueling mission. The parts she used to build it didn’t come cheap. Kara almost winces at the memory. She pulls out her notebook from inside her coat and flips it to the first page, and shows it to Lena.

**_Start Talking._ **

Lena smiles, understanding.

“I’m guessing you’re meeting me, because Kara told you about your recorded phone call?”

She almost asks Lena what she’s talking about, but then she remembers.

“Or… you came because of the articles.”

She nods. 

“You have no discernable patterns,” She comments, taking a few steps closer. “That’s smart.”

Kara fidgets, trying to pass nerves off as impatience. Now is not the time to be flustered by false compliments.

“But you can do better than this. It seems to me that you’re still just peddling band-aid solutions.”

If Lena was trying to get Kara to do her favors, she might have to rework her strategy.

“What?” Lena says as if to challenge her. Somehow she could read Kara’s body through the layers. “You think saving refugees from concentration camps will vanquish xenophobia? They will only make more camp. More weaponized ones at that. You want to think you’re better than Superman, but you might as well retire with a movie franchise to your name.”

Kara flips the page to reveal yet another pre-written page on her notebook.

**_What do you want?_ **

“Simple,” Lena says, taking a moment to frown at the notepad and understand that The Blur will be doing no talking tonight. “I want basic human rights to be deprivatized. Food, energy, water, shelter.”

Kara wants to say that’s not simple at all. The Luthor sounds like a tiresome billionaire politician pretending to be a social democrat, the kind that loses by electoral policy. The dig just might be worth giving away her identity, but Kara decides to flip to the next page.

**_What do you mean?_ **

Lena glances from the pad to Kara and back again. It’s either she’s still not used to the mode of communication or she’s nervous. Judging from the way Lena doesn’t have a problem with talking through a problem by herself, it’s most likely the latter.

“People are displaced because of ridiculous wars orchestrated in the name of ideology, when really, it’s just the voracity for power, for territory, for oil. People cannot voice out what their community needs because they’re too busy worrying about what to eat next or whether or not tomorrow is the day they’ll lose their home, or when their electricity will be cut.”

Lena slightly bounces on the balls of her feet. It shouldn’t be possible on three-inch heels. But it seems to work her up enough to speak freely.

“If everyone has access to renewable energy, oil will cease to be worth the wars, weapons will not be necessary. No one will be desperate enough to work under inhuman conditions, because there will be no bills for basic needs. Corporations will realize that and will be forced to truly evolve. There will be a much needed economic shift. A call for equal resources will become a norm, not just labelled a radical movement.”

Lena must have thought about this. A lot. She’s even more prepared than Kara with her notebook of pre-written quips and questions. It may sound too idealistic, but it has more long term effects than anything a political candidate can promise.

She’s not only presenting a solution to several problems. What she’s proposing is a chain of simultaneous solutions. It almost sounds like she cares. Deeply.

She has grown to burn with even more passion that Kara needs to look at something else. Her eyes land on the statue. Like many of the art pieces and decor in the house, it’s probably just another symbol of power.

Just another reminder that Lena is still ultimately, a Luthor, sister of the man who killed thousands for his obsession, the daughter of the man who no doubt accumulated wealth by questionable means. So did his father before him. Even more terrifying than that, she was raised by Lilian Luthor. She was raised to seek and take power by any means necessary.

Yet before her, is a confident heiress who laughs with charming abandon, and uses big words unapologetically (Kara is a huge reader but she may have had to google a word or two from her latest interaction with the Luthor). Lena manages an unwavering sense of entitlement yet is almost too shy for Kara to spite. She might have found the most dangerous Luthor just yet. On a good day, Kara might let the side of her that sees the best in people win, but today is not a good day. Rao does she need another shower.

Lena must mistake her silence for further inquisition. She brings out her own notes, and holds it out gingerly. She reminds her of a puppy Kara once wanted to adopt when she was thirteen. Eliza and Jeremiah were worried she still didn’t have enough control over her powers and might crush the little creature. It doesn’t help that Lena approaches her with caution, extending her hand out while looking up at her with those eyes. Puppies are the worst.

“Here is a list of all the billionaires who are secretly powered by coil transmitters, units stolen from project HAARP.”

It shouldn’t please her that Lena speaks with the assumption that Kara knows what she’s talking about. It should, in fact, alarm her how much Lena knows about HAARP, the High Frequencies Active Auroral Research Program that Diana Prince shut down in the nineties. A Luthor knowing anything about it is a little more than ominous.

But under the layers of her disguise, Kara lets herself preen. Lets herself relish not being spoken to like a child. Lets herself imagine that she is once again The Girl being trusted with another secret mission.

Then she straightens up, arranging her bearing into one of alarm. She takes the list, careful not to touch Lena’s fingers. Sensing where this is all going, Kara scribbles furiously on her pad.

**_They were stolen?_ **

Lena looks at the list pointedly. “They’re distributed equally into each continent. I don’t think start up corporations that have nothing to do with each other just decided to steal the transmitters at the same time. There could be one organization that stole them. They distributed them inconspicuously, and are perhaps waiting for the right time to enlist the transmitters for something undoubtedly nefarious. I haven’t figured out their motives but it’s the only thing that makes sense.”

Suddenly, the bandages feel too warm, too tight, never mind how loosely they were wrapped around her. Kara can only think of one organization that would dare to steal from Diana Prince and her associates. Its founder is the mother of the same woman who is asking Kara to stop them. They stare at each other, knowing what’s coming. Their contact bears understanding. But Kara tilts her head, urging Lena to continue. She needs to hear her say it.

“It’s CADMUS that I suspect, if that means anything to you.”

It does, Kara does not say. Perhaps because Lena can’t see her panic through the mask, she keeps going.

“In case it doesn’t, it’s this massive project that used to be funded by the government. Even through changes in leadership, they are still hell bent on using alien life and resources as weapons of mass destruction. Lillian, my mother, she’s behind it. But she died of cancer just like my dad did.”

Kara watches closely, but she can’t tell what Lena feels about that. She laid it out like she wasn’t just revealing two difficult truths about her mother: Her crimes and her slow death.

“I don’t believe the organization died with her. Strike, her jilted deputy might still be alive. There’s an energy surge in some of their former bases. And I know, I just know it has some, if not everything to do with the coil transmitters.”

“You know where their bases are?” Kara blurts out, forgetting that Lena’s not supposed to hear her voice. Lena immediately looks up at her, her mouth falling open in puzzlement. Kara waits, but there is no flash of recognition.

There’s nothing but surprise at her suddenly speaking and giving away her position regarding the organization. She _did_ sound like she wanted to break in wherever CADMUS is the moment Lena brought it up. Thankfully, her voice also seems to sound raspy from disuse.

“And I need your help,” Lena finally continues. “I don’t know how much Kara’s told you but I can give you whatever resources you may need. I have voice modulators that are weather and impact resistance. They’re embedded in my concealment devices. They’re all yours. It means you won’t need all…

She gestures at the entirety of Kara’s clothing. “ _That_.”

There may have been a hint of a smile.

“Taking the Project HAARP coils would mean taking CADMUS down. I don’t have enough proof but if they are behind this, then my plan might hit two birds with one stone. What I need to take them down _and_ to give people a chance,” Lena says, pausing for either effect or for easing her nerves. “Is for you to help me take the transmitters. All of them.”

Kara studies the woman. There is still too much that the Luthor is hiding. She doesn’t know if she can jump on her train on an only partly truthful premise. More than that, there is something in the way Lena’s gazes land on her that Kara knows would make decisions even harder in the future. For that alone, she falters. And Lena sees it. The silence stretches, broken only when Kara takes out her pen and finally flips to an empty page.

“They’re potent enough to distribute renewable energy globally. And even if I could make the transmitter coils myself,” Lena practically exclaims in one go, as if speaking quickly would change whatever rejection she fears Kara is scribbling. “with my limited resources, it will take me decades.”

**_Aren’t you a billionaire?_ **

“The company is running on a tight budget. Ever since- ever since my brother… I’m looking at a steady decline in sales and investments. I’m afraid the only promising department we have is virtual reality. The board is already suspicious that I’ve taken over various facilities.”

 _Well, haven’t you?_ Kara wanted to say. But one mistake is enough. Instead, she pulls out a chair, dusts it off with her already stained hands, and plops on to it. She looks up at Lena who seems to be working on yet another speech.

“Listen. I know you hate me. I would hate me, too...

If anyone else said that. Kara might have gagged. Self-loathing is a tactic that all manipulators abuse. It did not escape her, however when Lena glanced behind her as if reminded of where she is, where she’s from. In that split second, Kara heard the tremble, a subtle tell of her heart.

“But something big is coming. I can’t… I can’t do this alone.”

Kara sighs, and writes on her pad.

**_I can._ **

Regardless of intention, Lena’s plan _does_ sound great. In fact, Kara silently beats herself for not thinking of it earlier. But it also sounds like something she can do by herself. And fine, perhaps a few favors from Kal-el and Winn Schott and Brainy, should he choose to return. 

“Maybe you can. But if these companies didn't have anything in common, they do now. I have evidence of at least half of them shipping alien weapons. Three of them have kryptonite. I can help you take care of that particular problem.”

Kara can’t imagine how this woman is still at it. She deliberately came dressed as a walking joke, and here Lena is making promises. She is a different Lena with The Blur than she is with The Girl. She’s more straightforward but far gentler. She neither flirts nor stalls. Not in any way Kara can tell that is. But more than anything, she’s openly afraid.

Her loud heart beat is a lot to go by. At this point, Kara has become too familiar with the sound of Lena’s heart that if the Luthor were to betray her, she’d feel abandoned, untethered. She doesn’t need this. 

Kara flips the notebook reuses the same page: **_Aren’t you a billionaire?_ **

“Technically, I still am.” She wants to explain herself more, but Kara is already scribbling furiously.

**_Then you’re part of the problem._ **

Whatever it is Lena wanted to say, it must have slipped away. Kara stands up getting ready to take flight. A gentle hand lays on her arm, pressing a lingering warmth that somehow seeped through her thick coat and bandages.

“So why did you want to meet me here? Besides the irony, I mean.”

For a moment, Kara recalls the hyperfocus limbo she was just stuck in earlier. She takes out her pad again, remembering one of her musings that weren’t really meant to be answers for tonight. She wrote it a couple of years ago on the same pad for not so different reasons.

**_There is nothing outside of irony._ **

Lena reads it, and says nothing for a while, perhaps letting the weight of the words settle. Kara took her here because she wanted to set boundaries. A threat, more like.

As if finally having understood, she takes her hand off Kara's arm and takes a step back. It gives way to a cold neither of them were clearly prepared for. 

“I promise to never bother you again when this is over,” she says. Out of all the last shots Lena could take to convince Kara, she chose to say that. Could she be any less of a Luthor? If she says anything more confusing than that, Kara wouldn't know what to do.

She decides to stand there and wait. The threats and blackmailing would come. They had to. She did use a voice recording to somehow threaten Kara, did she not? Kara takes out her pen, set to taunt her, but she realizes there’s a far more pressing question. Maybe she’ll share with The Blur something she won’t share with Kara.

**_Why did you faint?_ **

Lena frowns. Whatever warmth she had left gives way to a cold draft. 

“I was just a little sick. Tired, I mean.”

Kara stares, facing her again.

“It had nothing to do with you. Or this.”

Lena’s discomfort almost made Kara want to say yes to the proposal. She momentarily fails to remember any of it, just that if she says yes, Lena might smile again. She takes the last of her willpower and turns away.

 _"_ I’m sorry _",_ Kara whispers as faint as she could. The Luthor might not have even heard it. She takes a few more deep breaths, and shakes her head, not bothering to hide her conflicted emotions. She could grant her at least that much-the truth that this is not an easy dismissal.

She’s already a hundred meters up in the air, when she hears Lena whisper, “Me, too.”

* * *

Thank you for reading! Wailing accepted on : [Twitter](https://twitter.com/faithinmanila)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Nikola Tesla coils and Project HAARP are based on real life projects. Nikola Tesla was trying to make wireless energy transmission, banking on the premise that people should have access to free renewable energy. Anyway, so yeah. I love and believe in Lena Luthor's capacity to save the world, if that already isn’t obvious. lol I know this isn't a happy chapter but I hope it does give you some foresight to what their working and romantic relationship can evolve into. I hope this has entertained you enough for now. Again, thank you so much for even giving this little fic your time of the day :')


	5. The Usual Suspects

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kara is not a damsel in distress. She really isn't.  
> But sometimes, she gets herself in trouble only a certain billionaire can get her out of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another day earlier than usual! Well it’s another Monday where I am. I hope this puts you in a better mood somehow.

When Kara was in college, she resented the trust fund abominations they call frat boys. She just _had_ to make sure they’d never rank. It began simply with turning over her best academic work. Displacing one rich manchild off the top ranks soon wasn’t enough. Kara began to push the disadvantaged to step up. Hard.

There could be no stepping up, however for Winnslow Schott who would often find himself at the brink of losing his scholarship. Juggling three side jobs would leave him too scatterbrained to pass papers on time or to remember he had any to write at all. He could easily best anyone else in his major if only he weren’t busy providing for his fatherless household and reeling from jail visits.

Kara hated cheating, but doesn’t the worst of it happen when the rich grabs opportunities from the rest? So despite never having talked to him before, She wrote some of Winn’s papers, made sure he went to the right classes, and spared him some coffee beans. And she kept him around. She kept him around because he always, always looked at her aid with confusion, as if in disbelief that Kara would be so kind. Everyone else thought her a saint.

Without her permission, people have imposed a narrative upon Kara that she’s expected to live up to. The narrative that she helped as much as she did out of the pure goodness of her heart. The truth is, Kara did what she did because she’s always angry. She does not, in fact, remember a time that she wasn’t fuming. Even before red kryptonite.

Nothing made her angrier (and lonelier) than when people put her on a pedestal. Kindness takes about as much effort as the self-control it takes not to crush a beaker in the chem lab. Kindness remains as much of a migraine as the pressure point training and tests Jeremiah put her to every single day of her life in Midvale. Kara went so much as to believe that the Danvers loved her because they did it with the knowledge of just how much it took for her to just well, just _be_. 

With every day being a race against impulses, every effort spent holding in as much of herself as she could, the people drawn to her for the pure goodness of her heart can stick it in their butt. For his part, Winnslow seemed to quickly realize how very little joy Kara found in his clumsy thank yous. He neither fussed over her handouts nor did he question how she’d manage to save his ass all while working three side jobs herself. She’s probably managed to convince him it’s an investment for when she’ll one day need his help.

He was much too happy that those days have been a common occurrence in the past three years. She could tell it took everything in him not to jump her with questions. Instead, he’d often go through the trouble of pretending her visits for The Girl’s favors did not excite every geeky membrane in his skull. Seated amidst terrible heating in Winn’s otherwise functional studio apartment, Kara tries not to smile at his complaints. Nothing much has changed then.

“Your hacking skills are like, okay. Why do you need _me_ to do it?” Winn whines, for sure typing faster than necessary. Before him is a spreadsheet that looks to be inventory for his new job at a pharmaceutical company on the other side of the planet. In other words, Winn has taken the life of a bat. It isn’t without consideration to his nocturnal life that Kara has shown up at sundown, brought out her laptop and made a workstation out of his kitchen.

The Superman crested clock ticking loudly is merely a countdown to when he’ll most likely drop the act. He is an easy man to threaten. But even if he weren’t, guilt would find its way to rule his choices. It’s not that she would bring up any of the things she had done for him. It’s that he would always feel guilty around anyone who’s done him a solid. It’s just nerves upon nerves that Kara had gotten tired of putting to ease. Might as well put that nervous energy to use.

“We’re doing another billionaire this time. Well, more like an entire list of them,” she says to Winn’s back. She knows he is listening because the typing on the Rao forsaken excel sheet has finally stopped. After all, she can’t imagine anything not being more interesting than a list of overpriced laxatives.

“The main one being the spawn of the devil.” She pauses only to shrug off her jacket, and to consider reminding him yet again to have the heater fixed. “She might not even be moving here to escape Luthor corp and Superman’s shadow. She’s-

“Holy shit, we’re doing Lena Luthor?” Winn turns his rather creaky office chair so fast Kara fears he might have to replace it.

“Uh, yeah? Lex Luthor’s little sis.”

“Wow,” Winn says as if he had not heard her. “Dr. Lena Kieran H. Luthor,” he breathes out looking as though he’s about to meet his god. Finally deciding that he’s not the only person in the room, he looks at her. Gone are all pretenses that he’d still be choosing his own job over Kara’s job tonight. “Why didn’t you lead with that?”

Kara is clearly missing something.

“Remember when NASA couldn’t figure out a way to launch Shuttle Libra without it detonating?” Winn doesn’t wait for her to answer. “Kieran Holt was the name she used when she solved the problem with the propellant tanks.”

“Oh.”

“You seriously didn’t find anything like that in your research? That wasn’t even a subtle name. I didn’t know you were _that_ behind.”

* * *

Kara, it turns out, wasn’t just behind on her research. She was rusty, and he had to know that. She wouldn’t be here otherwise. If there was anyone able to comb Lena’s encrypted life without her noticing, it’s him. So for the past several hours, they’ve combed. Or rather, Winn has.

Since the moment they got in, Kara has been storing every information to a secure “void” cloud Winn created, as he tries to cover his tracks as quickly as possible. In between sessions, she’d crosscheck every finding with the other sources, and oddly, frustratingly find that they add up. 

There’s an incredible amount of bank transfers to hospitals, civic centers, and policy research. When she tried to dismiss these as the result of patronizing galas and fundraisers, she noticed that many of these donations were not made public knowledge. Neither of them have met anyone with as many pseudonyms as Lena.

Their eyes could only bulge at the balance sheets. Granted, there hasn’t been a significant increase in the last three years, but the figures before them are some of the biggest amounts of money they’ve ever seen. Unsurprisingly, the shares showed a more gutting reality. It’s no secret that Lena inherited a fortune stacked in a train hurtling to the end of a cliff. Lex’s public demise, and his notorious crimes have undoubtedly contributed to plummeting stocks and investments.

Their speed has eased once they got to the graphs. Each one they find suspends Kara’s jaws in time. Lena Luthor’s advancements in virtual reality for education, gaming, renewable energy, and health care somehow manage to augment the blows. Every single tunnel Lex blew up figuratively and quite literally, his sister has survived, and more preposterously, has gone to fix. There could be no response more proper. The woman’s hands come to mind, as well as disemboweled train cars being held together by those delicate fingers. 

“I knew she’d be a Buffy kind of girl.” The anomaly that is Winn’s laugh makes her realize just how long her mouth has been hanging open. Had there been any flies around, Kara’s tongue might already be a nest. 

“Are you looking at her personal account?”

“Her Hulu,” said Winn, who did not bother to take his eyes off the screen. If he didn’t exclusively thirst after middle-aged men, she’d think he has a thing for Lena.

Kara leans in, not really able to relate to his occasional nodding and little bursts of giggling. He definitely has more to go by than Kara. From her clandestine meetings with the woman, she can’t exactly predict what Lena would be into. 

She hesitates before glancing at her own screen where Winn has been airdropping in real time. Looking into Lutor Corp’s balance sheets is one thing. Going through her personal purchases is another. It was rather intimate, almost as if she were violating a trust that couldn’t possibly be there in the first place.

She was too busy looking for a reason to distrust Lena that it only just struck her now how Lena put herself in a rather vulnerable position. The Blur can easily thwart her plans. She could easily turn out to be just like Superman. Whatever possessed her to come to a kryptonian, unprotected and carrying a potentially incriminating piece of paper?

Despite her reservations, she finds herself scrolling through Lena’s personal finances as if she’d find an answer there. Among the list are some regular gadgets and even home appliances. There is no discernible order to the selection. Because she can’t imagine Lena would have actual use for eleven toasters, Kara gathers she had likely bought them to take apart, not to use.

The rest are transactions for macarons, a ridiculous amount of books, the occasional scotch, and something that makes Kara almost fall off her stool. There were a few sex toys in the mix. Like many self-respecting adults in the country, of course, Lena invests in pleasure. If everyone else had as much money, at least thousands more would be making the same transactions.

Thinking economically has not done much to abate Kara’s blushing. It’s not that it’s unusual. It’s that it’s _Lena Luthor_. All these personal purchases have already been doing too much to substantiate the woman. The vibrators bought from ethical startups definitely aren’t helping.

Lena as the ghost of Lex Luthor, she can deal with. Lena as the figurehead of a corporate dynasty, she can ultimately distrust and veto the hell out of. Lena as a warm blooded mammal who engages in activity like many of humankind is likened to someone Kara would listen to and protect. Maybe Kara finding a way to access her private data is, after all, by Lena’s design, not hers.

“She is quite something, isn’t she?”

“What?” Kara jumps to another incognito window, her face heating up as she’s stuck thinking about the strap she ‘stumbled on’.

“It’s almost as if she’s preparing for a life alone,” Winn says. He leans his back and shakes his hands. He says it too calmly that Kara nearly grabs his screen in an attempt to see if he means what she thought he meant.

He didn’t. He had been looking at Lena’s choices of succulents. Plants, that is. Of course Winn wouldn’t have been less of a flustered mess if he were on the same page as Kara.

"What about plant rearing tells you someone wants to be left alone?"

Winn only shrugs.

In any case, it’s funny how one’s financial records can tell more about a person than what they’re willing to tell you. If Lena’s intentions are true, her supposed ideal world would not see anyone being determined by their purchases. At the fleeting thought running in with all their other findings, she realizes one chilling truth: Lena Luthor has not lied to her.

After grueling hours, they managed to find drafts of the renewable energy plans. It’s a rabbit hole of blue prints without legends, and they’re left speculating over the materials and locations. There are no indications on what the major energy source will be. None of the models have conductors and receivers for sun, wind, air, or even waste.

“What if there are no texts?” Winn blurts out. “What if there are no legends or guides, because Lena made sure only she can understand these?”

“Winn, that would make sense. Except Lena isn’t stupid.”

Kara pulls out their most surprising find yet. It’s a document where Lena keyed in information to predict Lex’s attempts to kidnap her. Even then she’s always been two, no twelve steps ahead.

“She’s survived enough death threats, from her own family no less. There’s a document somewhere and we just haven’t found it. She’s smart enough to make sure of that.” Kara knows this isn’t the first time she’s held towering assumptions of the woman’s intelligence.

“Unfortunately,” she adds.

The insane prints on energy tech should be enough proof that the project exists, but they need a location. It was no use tracing Lena’s GPS systems and property records. From this trail, all they got is that many of the properties are either being repossessed, or sold.

“Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to start from the beginning,” Winn suggests.

The deeper they dig, the more Kara fears just how easily Lena can detect the breaches. Winn may be skilled but there is no telling just how skilled Lena is. If she turned out to be anything like Brainy, Winn would be in trouble. The only way it would be fair to drag Winn into this is to tell him about her alien origins. He already knows she’s The Girl. What’s another secret identity?

“The beginning being the reason you’re doing this. I mean, I know some of your clients pay you enough to make you bother with their mess, but… are you okay?” He _really_ has to tell him soon. “Are you in trouble?” 

“No,” she says, handing the last set of information they can dig—Lena’s list of corporations with kryptonite powered weapons. “But they are.”

* * *

Lena had done her homework. She has tons of information about every single billionaire in the list, along with their companies. Winn and Kara have arranged all this information in an exhaustive virtual board. 

“She really is after them,” Kara decides, depleting what’s left of her fourth box of pizza.

“We’ve affirmed that like a thousand times. Don’t you think that the reason we can’t find anything against her is because she was telling you the truth?” Winn says through the pillow his head is buried in. He lies on his stomach several feet across the screens on the desk. Kara’s feet are propped on it, taking advantage of how Winn may be too tired to tell her off.

“You’re apparently her number one fan, so no, your opinion is not valid.”

He lifts his head at that, momentarily studying Kara before burying his head again.

“And your opinion is completely unaffected by any other factors?”

“Okay. Fine. Let’s just say she isn’t her brother. Let’s say she has good intentions. At the end of the day, the reason our world is the way it is is because of people like her.”

“You do realize she inherited it. All of it.”

“She grew up with it, too. She will never be one of us,” Kara says with finality.

She doesn’t want to argue, suddenly fearing she’d reveal just how invested she is. Very little else has crossed her mind, even with the possibility of CADMUS at bay. As much as she loathed things getting to her, thinking of Lena has come second only to thinking of food. This is not just another job for the one they call The Girl.

“I _am_ giving her the benefit of the doubt, Winslow. If we can’t find her lair, then we’ll break into her targets. We can see if what Lena said checks out.”

A pause meets her. For a moment, she thinks Winn has drifted to sleep but he slowly sits up from his nest.

“You mean like, among everything else that checked out?” He raises his eyebrows at her. “Don’t you think you’ve spent enough time trying to prove she’s lying?”

“Winn.” Winn’s shoulders droop, wavering as he should.

“Okay, _Kara_. But If anything goes wrong, you can’t stop me from calling your sister.”

“Yes, I can. Or at least I’ll make you regret it.”

She hears Winn swallow. Not that he’s ever been on the receiving end of it, but she’s never given him reason to think she makes empty promises.

“Just… be careful," he says, flopping back on to his bed.

* * *

The first on the list is Maxwell Lord. Kara would later say that she started with him because he is the nearest. The rest of the transmitters are in the other continents, after all. 

Alex once called him a reformed nerd with a god complex. She would know how to get through to him. The landfill where Kara dumped all the reasons she can’t work with her sister crowd her chest a little more than usual. If she were being honest with herself, she would know that she is rushing into a skirmish for personal reasons.

According to Lena’s findings, Maxwell Lord is the only other person besides Lex suspected to have created red kryptonite. Alex was too busy synthesizing the cure to be able to figure out the source, but if Lena’s right, he may very well be responsible for ruining her life.

Kara can’t say though, if the alternative would be any less distressing. If she finds nothing, then the list could easily be explained by corporate rivalry. Lord Industries is relatively newer than Luthor Corp. However, Maxwell Lord’s heroics have placed him among the top forces to be reckoned with. Now that the Luthors are buried on top of Lex’s crimes, it would make sense for them to come up with anything to incriminate Lord Industries.

Winn thinks that if this were the case, it would be over. She’d have a Luthor exposé for Cat Grant by morning. Dip and dash he had said. That would be nice. 

As it is, a fleeting thought of Lena laughing freely makes her wish to find something on Lord. It almost didn’t matter that that would mean more enemies for the House of El. She shakes her head and straightens up from her place of hiding. Even without Lena in the picture, there is no way Maxwell Lord is exactly who he says he is.

Kara has always found Lord Technologies’ rather abrupt rise power a little more than suspicious. Nobody questioned it because of his so-called contributions. With his inventions, he has saved National City through a few crises, or at least that’s the story he tells himself. He has openly expressed hatred for Superman ever since the kryptonian partnered with the government. It wouldn’t be surprising if he’s synthesizing kryptonite. She wouldn’t put mass destruction weapons past him either.

In her standby spot, Kara quickly runs down the cursed taxonomy of kryptonites. Kal-el has told her that unlike other variants of kryptonite, being infected by the red one can make them immune to it on the second run. “Like chicken pox?” she had asked him. “Sure,” was all he said.

This is one of the few times Kara allows herself to wish Kal-el is right. Despite being a woman of incredible strength and speed, watching the vast expanse of Lord’s property knocks a little bit of wind out of her. She has gone through the plant’s blueprint a hundred times in her head. The security was tight, but she was a super after all.

“Kara?”

She ducks, panicking before she realizes it’s just Winn. She fumbles with her earpiece. “Yeah, I’m cool, I’m good. It’s a party.”

She controls her breath not wanting him to hear how relieved she is to realize she’s not alone. Winn laughs knowing her a little more than Kara would like him to.

“Okay, great? I’ll replace their CCTV feeds on three, okay? Once they can’t see you, you can just go in, okay?”

“Okay.”

* * *

There definitely _is_ Kryptonite. She can feel her blood already lurching away however faint it is. She resists the urge to open crates just to make sure.

“See anything?”

Besides the space being the disappointing copy of every cinematic villains’ depository, there was nothing else she was allowed to see. The entire section is covered with lead. Lord sure has been preparing for this.

“Not exactly”, she whispers.

“What do you mean not exactly?”

Right. Winn still doesn’t know about her powers.

“Let’s just say the packaging _does_ scream weapons of mass destruction.”

Before Winn can wail for more information, she hears footsteps nearby. “Someone’s coming.” She should’ve been able to hear them coming from afar much earlier. Perhaps there’s more lead than she could account for. She takes a glimpse before hiding behind one of the crates.

It’s one of the guards she passed earlier. She’s only able to identify her because well, her hair is blue. The gradient shade makes Kara think of the flames on a burner. It doesn’t help that her body is built like the oven that would normally house a gas stove.

The boxy woman has a massive gun to match. It does _not_ at all resemble military arms. Alex’s arsenal of confiscated alien weaponry come to mind.

“Winn.”

“Yeah?”

“ _Don’t_ call my sister.”

“Oh no. Is that- is that code for ‘you’re in trouble’? Because you’re in trouble aren’t you?”

Another uninvited set of footsteps lord over the silence. Kara can’t see through the lead lined crates. She chances a peek from the bottom. Another guard who is even taller but wields a somehow smaller version of Gas Stove’s gun ambles in. When she ducks back in place, she learns that the tall man only came in to collect what’s his. Turns out the pair made a sports bet.

“Kara?” She ignores Winn, her senses simultaneously roving the room, and dutifully waiting on the two thickheads. Instead of kicking out the bet victor out of the room, Gas Stove horrifyingly starts an argument about her team’s losing streak.

They should’ve settled this bet yesterday. They only have themselves to blame when Kara blurts out her own take on the matter. “Samantha Kerr is _not_ in some bad juju. It’s Chelsea’s new management.”

Gas Stove’s head whips in her direction. “Did you hear that?”

“You’re really just going to change the topic every time you’re about to lose an argument,” says the taller dude.

“No, you imbecile. Something’s going on,” the woman says. Kara watches her feet pivot towards her.

“Winn,” Kara whispers. “Uh, can you make a PA distraction from the third wing?”

“What? Who’s Samantha Kerr?”

“Onlythebestfootballplayerintheworld. Now, just do it!”

Just as the sentinels begin their descent on the steps that would betray Kara, a paging alarm howls. It’s coming from an even farther wing than the third. Winn is nothing short of a genius sometimes. The footsteps have definitely stopped. She can’t see their faces but she imagines the two cavemen are in some eye lock of delayed information processing. The paging persists, and finally, finally, Kara watches the guards shuffle out of the section.

“Who were you talking to? I couldn’t see from my angles.”

“Maxwell Lord’s finest, apparently,” Kara says, rising to a still somewhat crouched stance. “Thanks for the assist. Have you found the containment room yet?”

“You mean Narnia?”

“It’s not a closet Winn. Stop trying to make Narnia happen.”

She moves on to the only room left from her memories of the blueprint. “Never mind.” If she’s right, which she is, the kryptonite is hidden behind this massive shelf that will open with a sequence of unsuspecting maneuvers.

“Ok, so you push the button hidden behind the lever on the upper right shelf, and then you turn-

“I turn the clock that’s shaped like a rocket, I know.”

She does exactly as instructed. Nothing happens.

“Winn. When you say Narnia… ”

Before he could explain, the shelf begins folding up until it morphs into a ladder. The ladder folds in on itself to form two slabs of metal fronting what looks to be, well, a huge closet. She doesn’t have time to tell Winn as much. Kara strains her ears to listen for anyone alarmed by the screaming metal. After a few moments of silence, she slips in. 

As predicted, it’s full of vessels holding what could only be Kryptonite. What she didn’t anticipate was for there to be five different colors of them. The glass must be made of a special deterrent. She can barely feel them even in proximity. She takes out her phone and takes as many photos as possible. She takes out the micro GPS chips and sticks them under each vessel. Just one more inspection of the room left and she’s out. _Dip and dash_.

But in the same sweeping look, supposedly the last, something just off from the furthest desk catches her eye. _It can’t be._ But it is. A fragment of an alien aircraft sits on a platform. It looks terribly too much like her pod’s rear end. Kara takes several steps to confirm.

A sense of dread and breathlessness overcomes her. Her veins pump painfully in double time. It might be too late to realize that the familiar wave is from excruciating physical pain, not recurring trauma. Considering her run with luck lately, it might as well be both.

With her dampened vision she sees the exposed block of green kryptonite several meters away from her. She trembles and clutches the nearest seat for balance. It’s still warm. Someone was definitely working on the set of Kryptonite, and has likely not ventured far enough.

“Kara? Kara, what’s happening?”

She tries not to scream.

“Kara!”

She can only grunt. Forming sentences would only give her a headache, and she’s not sure she even remembers how.

“Okay, it’s okay.” She hears Winn say although it’s repeated more for his sake.

She lets him. Kara could hardly form a syllable. Does she scream? She does not know.

“Kara, no! I’m going to make this call. Please, please don’t kill me.”

Great. She’s going to put her sister in danger once again, and if they live through this, there would be more reasons for her to have a say in her pathetic life. And that’s the best case scenario. Kara would laugh if she could.

“Please don’t kill me,” He repeats. She imagines him fishing his pockets for his phone, only to realize it’s right in front of him on the desk. “But please don’t die either.”

* * *

Kara Danvers is in danger. That’s all she’s getting from some boy’s bumbling panic. Winn, was it? What access does this boy, this man have to Kara’s life to be able to make this call?

Even he seems to know he’s not making much sense, because he hangs up. Lena keeps her eyes on the phone. She wouldn’t be caught dead naive enough to think that’s the end of it. Predictably, a black and white pixelated image takes over the screen.

This man is smart. More than smart. Not just because he found her contact and is now patching a video through, but because he somehow figured out she hasn’t exactly put the lexosuit out of commission. If circumstances were any different she’d be bribing him twice whatever amount he’s getting paid.

As it is, she waits for the video to stop glitching. When it finally settles, Lena holds her breath all too knowingly. Every bathtub of ice her step mother dunked her in (“This will make you stronger, trust me”), suddenly pales in comparison to the iceberg her gut has frozen into.

Kara Danvers _is_ in danger. Somehow, The Girl is in chains, her face slack, her eyes strewn shut by pain, not by lack of consciousness. She can’t tell the color of the chains through the desaturated feed, but the glowing tells her enough. Before she can assess more of the picture, the same cryptic number pops up on her screen. She has never answered a phone call this fast.

“Where is she? And while I’m on my way, you’re going to tell me who you are and just what in the blistering hell inspired Kara to break into Lord’s plant.”

She clips on her head piece and springs into action nobody really knows she’s capable of. By some stroke of luck (or fate when Lena’s in the mood to argue on its behalf to the horror of her fellow scientists), the call came while she’s working in her lab. In less than five minutes, she’s cloistered in her brother’s cursed piece of technology, has nearly pulled her hair for letting her stock of red sun bombs deplete to almost nil, and shot well into her way to Lord’s plant.

“So you’re the parasite that keeps browsing my bank books _and_ my hulu,” Lena says, while getting the hang of flying in a very open, and very public space. She couldn’t quite believe her practicing would be useful _this_ soon.

“And maybe your Etsy account, too.”

“I admit I didn’t see that one.”

“I’m sorry,” said Winn. “I- well, Kara and I. We-”

“No worries. Anything you can breach is meant to be breached. I’m sure Kara’s realized that already,” Lena says, trying to sound nonplussed. The last thing she needs is to trigger his panic by panicking, too.

“I just didn’t think you’d both be idiots for having thought _this_ is a good idea.” While on air, she lets Winn detail his and Kara’s badly planned break in. Has she unwittingly sent Kara to a death sentence?

“For the record, it wasn’t my idea. I warned her about this.”

“That does sound believable.”

“Hold on, it would be easier if I send you another visual. If you’re getting there with your exosuit, you’ll be able to see the blueprint on your visor.”

Sure enough, a png graphic of the blue print spreads across her helmet’s glass shield. Winn, who seems to have calmed down, walks her through which wing Kara entered, which section they’re holding her in, and which exits they can take. Before he even finishes, she finds a depression to hide in just inches from the Lord’s eastern electric fence.

If this were any other day, Lena would roll her eyes at having remembered the exosuit’s x-ray thermal hybrid scanner. Of course Lex would install this feature. He just needed to one up the man of steel. But this is the day that The Girl is in terrible danger. Of Lena’s own making, nonetheless. Without the hybrid scanner, she wouldn’t be able to see Kara’s exact detainment spot from the rear end of the plant. His brother’s shoddy innovation gets another pass today.

* * *

It’s always been about two birds and one stone for Lena. But with Kara decaying in pain, she has no intention of hitting less than a _flock_ of guards with one blast. Ignoring Winn’s suggestion to use the least guarded entrance, Lena hovers by Kara’s tier. She aims at the wall where she knows several guards to be congregated against, and then she fires. Slabs of iron and concrete cut down the lot of them. Having created a hole larger than she expected, Lena doesn’t hesitate to make her entrance.

In a similar economy of movement, she throws the last of her red sun bombs at the wall past Kara. The impact is instantaneous. The two remaining guards are kept down by the impact. The red glow evolves into a mist that practically makes her invisible. At the same time, if her theory is correct, Kara will no longer be in pain. She will lose her powers but will also cease to be affected by kryptonite for as long as the red sun bomb permeates the air.

Lena uses the time the guards spend in blindness rushing to Kara’s side. It’s only been a few seconds, and Kara is already stirring and taking a better grip of herself. With equal parts wonder and terror, Lena watches the implications of the recent developments. She yanks the chain binding Kara’s arms, and reaches for the one biting at her legs.

Of course it was never going to be that easy. Before it even registers, she’s sent flying to the other side of the room. She waits to bounce off whatever wall she’s bound to crash into, but it appears that she’s been drilled snug into one. When she looks up, a blue flame appears to be dispelling the red mist. The nearer it gets, the more it seems to be attached to a head that’s attached to a body that’s attached to a weapon of some sort. The person, alien, or thing must’ve been what pulled her by the spinal tubes on lex’s lousy suit and flung her away from Kara.

She uses her hover force to dislodge herself from the wall. In the last second of her trajectory, she flips and untucks her leg hoping to hit the hulk’s sorry face. Unfortunately, this only lets her be yanked from the air and smashed on the ground, creating yet another set of Lena shaped craters.

The third time she’s dangled by the leg and sent rocketing down, she meets the ground with what she hopes is grace. When she bounces back up to face her enemy, she’s pleased to see that a brawl is most certainly due.

The woman who is unmistakably an alien gives Lena very little opening as they go head to head. With the guard’s schooled precision, she must’ve trained with masters. Unfortunately, Lena thinks almost with pity, those masters never taught her how to block surprise knee jerks.

There’s a wet tearing sound for each of Lena’s strikes. Following the shock and spitting of blood, a smirk grows on Blue Hair’s face as if for the first time, she’s given something to work with other than walking among crates for hours on end. Before Lena can gift the woman with another injury, an even uglier crack somewhere in the vicinity of her own body coincides with a blow that catapults her back to the other end.

By some miracle, her momentum sends her through the hole she already created instead of crashing her helmet to make a new one. She’s no doubt been shot with something. Something so powerful, all she can think about is that if this leaves her gravely injured, Sam and Jess would give her so much shit about it.

 _Not dealing with that, nope._ She would later question how out of all things, it’s what drives her back to the war zone. Having sabotaged her descent to the ground outside, she propels herself back into the god forsaken hole. The guards that have finally gotten their shit together greet her with more ammo. They bounce uselessly off the force field she activated on her way in.

As she has gauged, it must be taking a while for the monstrous blaster to recharge. That could be the only reason they’re hitting her with weaker ammo. Not to say the weak are actually weak because they’re able to slow her down. It’s taking her forever to get to Kara.

She catches a glimpse of who she now knows is a kryptonian, and who is now still quite unconscious. It really does not look like they can get out of this alive. In a few seconds, the large weapon will have been recharged and will barbecue her. They’ll take Kara, hand her over to CADMUS or worse, they’ll keep her around and turn her into their soldier. Maxwell Lord is no saint and no god, but it’s insanely annoying how much he sure thinks he is.

Lena gradually extends the force field to the kryptonian, who is unfortunately not near enough to just grab and fly away with. In the interest of multitasking, she casts her defenses while gaining ground on them. She can’t attack them in distance when they can shoot at her, but she can give them hell if she’s near enough to punch them in the face. When one of them runs out of ammo, she sprints with whatever bursts of energy she has left.

She turns off the forcefield and immediately slides behind the steel. Letting go of the forcefield rebounds the last bullets that came into contact with it, and sends a shockwave that knocks them off their feet. She grabs one of the alien blasters and wastes no time debating the morality of this moment. For a while only her open fire is heard, soon enough followed by the echo of bodies and large guns falling. Lena’s own violence shocks her. The man who almost killed her with the most powerful blast gun she has ever seen stares aimlessly, the light just having left his eyes.

Her guilt, or rather plain shock, is interrupted by the sight of blue lurking in her periphery. But it’s too late. Blue Hair barrels herself into her. They take an entire utility shelf down with them. The angry guard wades her way through the mess. Her gun must've been the first to run out of ammo. She looks too eager to use her fists instead.

“I can recommend my hairdresser,” Lena says, hoping to buy some time. She is still in the middle of unstucking her foot from under a suspiciously heavy crate. “I’d ask you where you got the blue, but your cropping sure needs some work.”

The angry woman-alien-robot sends tools flying in her attempt to clear her path. Lena extends her arm, no longer aiming for a punch but just to smash anything in its way. She realizes it’s a mistake the second she does it. Her elbow lands on Blue Hair’s wrist. Predictably (and quite brilliantly, Lena thinks), the woman grips and pulls.

The entire arm of her armor is torn off, leaving her flesh exposed. But in the time it takes to shove the metal arm, Lena’s foot yanks free. She directs the impact above the woman and with as much force as she could, she lands it like an axe on the turning frontal lobe.

In her graceless fall, the woman shatters the ground beneath her. She does not stay down. She grabs at Lena’s other foot, which Lena simply raises to fling her up. Lena lets her fall and catches her with a low, lethal roundhouse for good measure. Her guilt, if that’s what it is, would have to wait another day.

She whips around wildly for any more incoming, but every single one of them in the room has stayed down. There’s movement to her left, but it’s only Kara on her knees trying to break the last of her chains. Lena reaches her in one rocket boost, horrified at how little of the red sun bomb is left in the air.

Something dies inside of Lena when she hears Kara whimper. The pain must be creeping its way back. “Shh. It’s okay, Kara. I’ll take you home.”

It’s not entirely an empty promise. With one of her arms naked from super powered contraption, she takes a second too long to break the chain, and properly angle them for flight. A clattering of boots and metal signal a horde of reinforcements coming in. She ignores the pain, and lets Kara’s entire weight collapse onto her. She’s a bit heavier than she imagined. Not that she ever imagined taking her into her arms.

With one last look around, she lifts the heavy kryptonian up and shoots them the hell out of there.

* * *

The kryptonian, finally away from all the kryptonite, and having her first taste of the yellow sun, opens her eyes and blinks at Lena’s obstructed face. It looks as though it’s taking a lot for Kara just to look straight. Lena shifts so she can hold Kara with her one good arm, and lift her helmet shield up with the other. She flashes her smile, if only to ease that crease in her forehead.

“Are we flying, miss?”

“Yes, Kara. Though you know, this is not how I imagined going out with you.”

The woman rearranges the folds in her face from confusion to amusement. She laughs. It should be endearing, but the woman’s throat is worryingly parched. “You’re funny. You’re like my friend, Lena.”

A friend. How wonderful it would be to even have a friend. It’s an honor she’ll lose the moment they hit the ground. But for now, the fleeting title is worth getting absolutely shot in the chest for. She considers telling her so, but then the kryptonian has already passed out.

* * *

Dreamless sleep comes so rarely that when it does come, Kara Zor-el knows when she’s leaving it. She tries to hold on and fall back into stasis, but she knows it’s a lost battle with wakefulness. It starts with the senses as most things do. A warm glow coats her skin, not because it’s finally entering but because it’s finally coming to the surface. She must have been on it for hours. On _it._ On a damn _sun bed_ only the DEO is known to have.

Eyes still closed, she strains a little to listen, prepared to hear an onslaught of machines, voices, and heartbeats. A plan to immediately rip herself off the bed and escape through the nearest window forms in her mind as she realizes it’s too quiet. There is a little buzz of machines, and only one familiar heartbeat.

“If you’re plotting to kill me, at least open your eyes, Kara. Wouldn’t hurt for it to be the last thing I see.”

Kara had seen it coming. She had recognized the heartbeat, hadn’t she? But it almost shocks her back to dizzying unconsciousness. She called her by her name. Maybe this isn’t a dreamless sleep after all. Maybe she’s just dreamed Lena Luthor up. Lord Industries. The manor. CADMUS coming back. All of it. She burrows herself deeper into what remained of sleep, willing away any semblance of wakefulness. It could be so easy.

Except there’s that damn heartbeat.

* * *

She doesn’t know what she imagined she’d see when she opened her eyes but it wasn’t this. Lena sits on a stool not far from her, wearing a clunky mechanical suit that looks too big for what Kara could remember of Lena’s physique. One of her arms is exposed, covered in one of the long sleeves she must be wearing underneath, the other encased, leading to a mechanical hand that cradles a glass of scotch.

She wonders briefly if this is what Kal woke up to whenever Lex managed to drag him to his torture chamber. But she didn’t feel as if she were being held captive. In fact, she felt great for someone who just fainted from kryptonite exposure. As if that were the point of these machines.

“I get it,” Kara starts. Her voice is raspy and her mouth tastes a little funny. Everything feels a little funny. “Halloween is around the corner. But I’m sorry my unwittingly Invisible Man can top retired robocop any day.”

Lena raises an eyebrow. “Top?”

“I mean. Well, that’s not what I meant.”

She just knows Lena meant to push it but she winces instead from the effort. Kara looks closer at the source of Lena’s sudden discomfort and sees the laceration. There are bruises starting to form all over Lena’s face. Her hair is tied up in a messy bun. Further down, Kara realizes that her exposed arm is not sheathed by a sleeve but by bandages.

Her eyes travel to Lena’s chest that is apparently sporting a dent. If that suit is a hand me down from the one person she and Kal both loath, then that metal is most definitely promethium. And now its arm is yanked off. Its chest plate is caved in. She can’t recall Superman ever being able to even dent the Lexosuit by as much.

“You look like shit.”

“Ah. You and your way with words. You must be feeling better.”

The veiled trauma she hears in Lena’s voice grips Kara into place. The events leading to this sunbed slap her as if to wake her up. There were loads of kryptonite, her pod for some reason, and a vague picture of the lexosuit being hammered into some wall. If the lexosuit weren’t sitting opposite her in a state of disrepair, she could swear it’s all been a dream. For an impossibly long second she thinks she must’ve been reinfected by red kryptonite. “Did I do that?” Kara said, pointedly staring at the dents.

Lena shakes her head almost immediately, the effort not helping whatever headache she’s hiding. “Alien weapons did. Ones I never thought _I’_ d ever face.” She must be looking at her stupidly, because Lena adds, “If you did this to me, I’d put you under a trench, not on a cozy sunbed.”

“So you came for me,” concluding for herself. She tries to recall everything that led to Lord Industries, anything she can say to make this rendezvous less embarrassing. She must have taken a long moment because the next time she has half a mind to look, Lena’s glass is almost empty.

“What was I doing then? Why was I letting you get skewered?”

“Besides the fact that you hate me? You were tied up with Kryptonite chains, Kara.”

Kara looks down at her hands almost expecting them to still be bound. Despite no longer feeling the effects of kryptonite, she’s still surprised to see that her hands are unrestrained. She sits up quickly. Too quickly, her head performs cartwheels.

“I got us out. Barely.” Lena puts down her glass, a frown looking too at home on her pretty face. If only Kara could catch her gaze. She wants to say something stupid to get Lena’s attention. But she doesn’t speak, knowing there can only be bad news from here.

“I’m sorry but they know about you now. I doubt they recognized my suit… But they saw you, and what kryptonite does to you.”

As if being held chained with kryptonite and the humiliating consequences of her bullheadedness weren’t enough, Kara now had to deal with Rao’s sick idea of grief. All those years of carefully operating in the shadows, gone. Gone simply because she couldn’t sit her ass down and trust a Luthor. She did this. She got herself in this mess. But she would rather eat a pile of shit than admit that to Lena.

“Your boyfriend was smart enough to hijack all the security cameras,” said Lena. “In a manner of speaking, nobody saw your eyes. The ones who did only have clumsy testaments to go by. The rest well, I killed them.”

“My boyfriend?”

Lena frowns, wildly taken aback by something. “That’s what you…never mind. On the phone, before he got to the point, he said he was only calling me because you’d kill him if he sent your sister after you.”

When Kara doesn’t speak, Lena continues thinking, or rather simply thinking out loud. “But I’m guessing it has more to do with him knowing I can get to you faster. It’s him who has been looking through my accounts. I piggybacked his signature and he-”

Lena jerks her head up interrupting her own introspection. Kara gets the feeling that she does this a lot. She looks at her strangely. “I honestly don’t know why I didn’t put two and two together.”

At that, Kara snorts. “Well to be fair I did come wrapped in bandages.”

“No, I mean. Even covered with all that, you _smelled_ familiar.”

That should be creepy. All things considered, this obsession with supers is not the work of a sane person. But Lena says it so nonchalantly, her thoughts rushing elsewhere. The scent of her could’ve been a passing thought. For a moment it’s Kara who’s stuck on the premise of Lena being close enough. Had Kara made that much impression at the bar with what little time they had? A warmth too pleasant and has little to do with the sunbed settles on her stomach.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” she blurts out. Lena pays her an amused look before shaking her head to resume her brooding.

“You disappeared as Kara Danvers three years ago. You started running underground operations”

“I fainted from kryptonite exposure, not hitting my head, Lena. I think I can still remember myself.”

Showing no sign she heard her, Lena continues. “Your investigations were all far too successful to be the work of a normal human being, not that you aren’t crazy smart… But that should have rung alarm bells.”

 _Crazy smart._ She studied her work. Lena Luthor thinks she’s crazy smart. Lena Luthor is still talking to herself. “I can’t believe I paid you... to find _you_.”

Kara straightens up, understanding where this is going.

“You can take it back. The money.”

That finally gets Lena’s head out of the drawing board.

“Oh, please. Keep it. It’s not early enough to cover the trouble I caused you.”

“What— what trouble?”

Lena suddenly reaches for something. _Great_ . Kara cannot _deal_ with any more alien weapons. She prepares to escape through the window as she imagined she would if she were to ever wake up in the DEO. But Lena only points the object to the television. Points the _remote_ to the _television_ mounted on the wall. She sighs. Maybe she _did_ hit her head.

They catch the tail end of a news report displaying a blurred photo of a figure soaring. The familiar font at the right of the screen is screaming at her. The air time shifts to commercials, some loud autumn jingle that could’ve annoyed the shit out of her on another day. But today, she couldn't care less if it escalated to Christmas songs. There was only the echo of the anchor’s report.

_“Could there be more kryptonians in our midst?”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Will these two dumb babies finally start working together? Sure. Will Kara manage to do it without being dumb and sarcastic? Idk. Let’s see next week lol hope you had fun seeing Lena smash.


	6. Lena + The Machines

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lena and Kara face the aftermath of the skirmish, and try to come to terms with their options.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whenever I try to write Kara the Genius or whatever, her dumb side persists and often wins and in my head, I let it because it's endearing and I love her lol
> 
> The title is simply a dumb reference to Florence + The Machine because I love her... The songs give off Lena Luthor vibes (Also Lena with her little machines and inventions = sexy; it's not that deep)
> 
> Enjoy!

To the Luthor’s dubitable credit, their flight path was high enough in the clouds. The photo on CBS News showed nothing more than a vague chunk of body with overgrown limbs. It has so far not registered to anyone that it might be two people.

“Those reporters were clearly reaching,” Kara says. “There’s no way anyone would see that in the sky and immediately think it’s a Kryptonian. I know it’s not exactly common, but there are still other aliens and meta humans that can fly.”

“It _is_ quite the reach,” Lena says in the tone of someone sharing a questionable boat with a skittish bison. She appears to stall the ‘but’ in the event that Kara might be spooked enough to tip them over.

“But,” Lena says. “It only means that enough people have been speculating about The Blur for this to be the knee jerk reaction.”

The Luthor must be making a critical point, but Kara picks up only her vigilance, and the way she retrieves her empty glass to fiddle with. A couple of days ago, she would take comfort in the fact that a Luthor is afraid of her. It feels as though it’s been a millennia.

“Maybe,” says Kara, who decides as soon as she speaks to do it softly. “I can ask Superman to fly around town wearing black. Then, I’ll tip Catco with Superman’s visit to National City.”

“You mean your brother’s visit?”

“No, my cousin. He’s-

She stops dead, eyes drawn instantly to the culprit. Has she mistaken anticipation for fear? Lena Luthor waits for her with the look of innocence that could’ve swayed the founding fathers in their grave. The little shit has tricked her yet again into smuggling sacred data.

“You didn’t know that did you?”

“Nope.” Lena says, popping the _p_ for effect. Kara, to her credit, is by no means haunted by the lip exercise. “But now I do.”

“You’re impossible,” Kara says, more as a reflex than anything.

“So I’ve been told.”

There should be something apocalyptic about Lena looting Kryptonian secrets, but there is only a headache, and the undeniable thrill that Lena will be taking them somewhere she’s never been to. Both are likely the mere side effects of her sorry ass being bailed out.

“But I’m not the one who broke into a plant with no assistive tech and no back up,” says Lena. She finally stops abusing her glass of now drying scotch with her still intact thumb. It’s settled on the table very gently. The movement, more than her half hearted reproach, gave Kara permission to parry.

“You literally gave me a list of candidates for abomination,” Kara says. “What was I supposed to do, interview them? I don’t exactly subscribe to your style of buying drinks for the enemy.”

“You aren’t- that wasn’t,” Lena starts, and then gently, “I gave you a leverage, Kara. Practically the power to legitimately threaten me. It should’ve helped you trust me enough to do this with me.”

“Ok, seriously?” Kara says, because _seriously?_ “Your concept of trust and safety is like, wrong on so many levels, and that’s saying a lot coming from me.”

“I thought you’d come to me once you figure out that you need me to stop CADMUS. There should’ve been enough data on Maxwell Lord to tell you as much.”

Lena was by no means faulting Kara. The silence following is not of a viper about to strike but of a convict weighing her own crimes. For some reason, that placid calculation tore at Kara more than any explosive assault could’ve.

“I told you to stop acting like you know me,” Kara says. “You think I’d just hop on your train? You’re running on a track built by contract and by blood. Your great grandfather co-founded an anti-alien syndicate and signed a decree that made sure every descendant in the bloodline will inherit membership.” Kara stops to see if Lena would say something, anything.

But she doesn’t.

“Claiming to be independent of that decree, your brother poisoned lakes and dams, killed thousands of people, tortured my cousin at least a dozen times, and had the audacity to die a quick death. I have reason to believe he couldn’t have done any of that alone, and out of everyone close to him, it’s only you who insists on being under the radar. Not exactly the most airtight of covers.”

In place of speaking, Lena’s jaws work hard to stay locked. Kara hopes it’s only to blunt her anger. The alternative would be too much.

“A leverage would never have sufficed,” Kara continues, more out of self-preservation than an attack. “That’s not how I work, if it can be helped. That’s not how trust works, Luthor.”

She wants to hop off the damn sunbed and pace. Her head though, does not seem willing to cooperate. Squeezing her thighs will have to do. “Well, you did save my life, I can at least give you this one thing. A trial run perhaps? Just, I don’t know, look me in the eye and tell me you’re not like your family and leave it to me to weigh the truth in that.”

In holding her gaze, Lena obliges one of her demands but only for a moment. The news returns from the pit of advertisements, slicing through the Kryptonian and the Luthor’s juvenile warfare.

 _“Welcome back to CBS news,”_ the anchor says. _“Following the appearance of a flight-capable alien, Maxwell Lord claims that his biomass energy plant has been trespassed by the alleged Kryptonian. He declined filing an official report to the police, but proceeds to make an announcement to his fellow National City residents.”_

There’s that cursed picture that now stung more as the evidence of Lena saving her life than as a threat to her secrets, and then there’s Maxwell Lord’s cursed face. He’s positioned himself up on a podium, more than half of his body hidden behind a lectern. He is of course, still not speaking, gazing upon a supposed crowd of fans. She wouldn’t be surprised if he starts waving.

“A press conference? What, is he like, the mayor now?”

“More like a nerd with a god complex,” says Lena.

“Yes! Wait, that’s what my sister calls him, too.”

 _“For fifteen years,”_ Lord says. _“Metropolis city has been under attack by meta humans and aliens alike. It is a threat that is managed by their so-called Man of Steel. But we all have reason to believe that none of those catastrophes would’ve happened if he didn’t exist in the first place. Power attracts power. It should belong only to those who seek real change in the world.”_

He pauses with the obvious intent of making this about him. _Why are men so predictable?_

_“Now, the same threat has presented itself to National City this morning. I advise the state and the citizens to remain vigilant.”_

Kara and Lena sit on the edge of their respective seats, reeling from their respective injuries and from Maxwell Lord’s mere audacity. The screen blacks out in the middle of him repeating himself, and Kara doesn’t even complain. As Lena replaces the remote on the table, they hear a ping. And then several more, as if it’s saying something in morse code.

In the concluding dead air, they both eye the pager as though it’s a bomb that would detonate any second. Next to it is the phone she took the kryptonite photos with, sentenced to life in airplane mode. Both devices lay hooked to Kara’s belt, which Lena must’ve taken off of her hips. Kara wants there to be a point in picking it up right now, but finds that it proposes a lot to deal with.

“That’s Alex, I guess,” she says finally. “My sister is going to kill me after she kills Winn, and maybe you. Consider yourself dead, too, by the way.”

She said it as an attempt at humour, not to will an omen to existence or anything. Yet when she looks at Lena’s pale face, she sees the translucence intensify. There are fibrous veins that threaten to break out of her skin. She could’ve sworn they weren’t there just a few seconds ago.

“Take off your suit,” she commands.

“We’ve barely had a drink. Aren’t you moving too fast, Ms. Danvers?”

“And you call me immature.” She hops off the bed, and takes her first steps like a newborn donkey. Lena moves forward to steady her. They’ve come so close that Kara suddenly worries about having bad breath, but this is not the time. “Your veins. I’ve seen this before. You’re infected.”

Lena clutches at her neck. “Um. Shit.”

“You said your suit is powered by Harun-el. Take it off. _Now.”_ The urgency in Kara’s voice must’ve shot Lena an idea, because she straightens up. But instead of sharing said idea with her, she reaches for her phone and types up a message. Kara is still disoriented from being too close to her, but she eventually gathers her damn wits. In one smooth motion, she scoops the Luthor up and deposits her on the sun bed.

Lena screams, the obvious pain momentarily paralysing Kara. Knowing it’s not from the cushioned impact, she gradually begins grasping at the suit to find some sort of disassembly button. She sees something that she hopes is not for launching laser beams or something. When she looks up for her approval, Lena is already nodding. She seems unable to do much else. Kara presses the button and the suit dismantles, collapsing away from Lena’s body. Its final form, a cube, rests by Lena’s foot.

Kara’s knees nearly give way at the sight of Lena’s chest bleeding. She musters enough strength to rip off the clothing, but immediately regrets it. The pale, _pale_ skin is riddled with small shards of black kryptonite. It must’ve shattered upon impact of whatever dented the promethium. The fragments seem to embed very shallow wounds, which explains why Lena didn’t feel the damage soon enough.

However, she knows that unstable harun-el is poison to anyone’s bloodstream. The increasingly black veins, shards and cuts stare back at her, dark and brooding. The sight weakens her more than the minimal presence of black kryptonite. She doubts she can make contact with the wreckage, but there is no time to meditate about that. Her hands are on Lena’s chest before the decision even ripens.

Kara extracts as many shrapnels as she can, her stifled screams joining Lena’s whimpers. Though it’s not as incapacitating as green kryptonite, the black pieces feel like acid against Kara’s own skin.

It seems that the point whenever things can't get any worse is exactly when they do. The alarm system sets off, echoed by the walls of the, _what is this anyway, a lab?_ She defers that matter for later, because someone is trying to break in right when Lena is on some trip to follow her dearly departed. It’s kind of a riot.

“Shit,” says Kara, who is surely in no state of panic. “Hang in there, Lena. Don’t you dare die on me.”

Kara speeds out to the entrance but finds that the door is already opening. She braces herself. A man finally comes in and points a gun at her. It’s a tiny revolver, hardly the monster Kara remembers from Lord Industries.

“Oh, thank god you’re alive,” says the man lowering his gun.

“Winn?”

“I’m sorry I called her. When you told me never to call your sister I put her on speed dial. I swear it was the result of careful deliberation and more stalking before we even left the plant.-

Winn rambles on with why his decision was very much justified, but Kara hears only part of it. The mention of her sister nearly gives her a conniption. _Why didn’t I think of this sooner_?

The only known substance to reverse the effects of kryptonite were made by her sister when Kara was infected with the cursed red kind. She doesn’t know if it will work for Harun-el, but more than anyone, her sister’s bound to come up with something. She staggers backwards, still feeling the effects of exposed kryptonite.

-Also, wait are you an alien?”

 _Oh what the hell._ In just a fraction of a second, Kara finds herself a foot away from Winn.

“Oh my god how did you- you’re definitely going to kill me now aren’t you.”

“I’ll think about it. Give me your phone.”

“Wait, where’s Lena?”

Kara doesn’t wait for him. She snatches the device, leaving his pocket torn as a result of the frantic super speed.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m calling my sister.”

* * *

The bulk of National City already thinks there’s a super around. It wasn’t the smartest thing to do. She considered just waiting for Alex to come zipping on her motorbike. Winn told her the coordinates of whatever the hell this place is, and she gauged it might only take her sister 15 mins to come.

But she took one look at Lena and knew even 10 minutes might be too late. She was even paler than when Kara first saw her unconscious. Pale enough for the veins to crowd her otherwise perfect face.

Before racing out to get Alex, Winn explained to her how the lab is flanked by two exits. There’s an inexplicably massive tunnel that grows into a hill. She knows the one. The one that beheld sunset tones on the fringes of Midvale, and a tinge of Noonan’s coffee.

The second way out is through a chute rising to the National City’s Science Hub Library. It’s the one that would endanger her secret the most, but it’s also the one nearest to the DEO. There is no debate. She flew through the chute, risking not only her already tense relationship with her sister, but also exposing herself to the world.

Alex has brought two vials of modified titanium, and has been periodically injecting Lena in increments. She doesn’t know how her sister has prior knowledge of Harun-el, but even Kara accepts that now is definitely not the right time to press her. She shoots Winn, who was wordlessly knighted as Alex’s assistant, a look every now and then to make sure he knows it, too.

Despite being capable of assistance herself, neither Alex nor Winn were having it. To be fair, Kara may or may not have sounded a tiny bit delirious with anticipation. Since practically being kicked out of the med bay, Kara starts pacing around the room. Maybe planning what to do now that the world believes she exists is productive. But she just can’t seem to focus.

How can she when despite the ominous veins easing out of Lena’s face, the woman hasn’t so much as stirred? She ebbs into a stop when she realises Alex is no longer moving by Lena’s bed. She must’ve finished the transfusion and decided to wager how long it would take Kara to notice she’s being watched.

“Alex,” she says, keeping herself from super speeding to the med bay. It feels like the longest walk of the year. “What do we do now?”

“We wait.”

“We wait?”

“Yes, Kara. We wait.”

Kara wants to say she would very much rather eat the rubber linings of her own faux leather jacket. She’s supposed to be used to just waiting. After all, it was sitting tight moments longer than necessary that solved many of Kara’s investigations. In the face of her sister, none of that mattered. _The Talk_ is coming, and there’s no stopping it. Sure enough, Alex glares at her, and takes a step closer.

“What were you thinking?”

What _did_ she think? That Alex would give her space after fixing her mess?

“You told me to stay out of it,” Kara begins before Alex could get another word out. “Her turning up in National City is no coincidence. I knew that but I still went after her. I lied to you.” 

If she starts ticking off the ways in which she fucked up then maybe Alex will skip to the part where she just glares and feign tolerance.

“I’ve been lying to Winn. I put the life of a civilian in danger by lying to him.”

The civilian twitches, probably from the effort it takes to not push the hundreds of buttons and levers around him.

“And I put _her_ life in danger because I’d rather blow things up than communicate with you. Worst of all, I went into a plant the Luthor tagged for possessing alien weapons without backup. Regardless of whether or not she was telling the truth, there’s no way infiltrating Lord Industries alone would be a good idea. I was an idiot. And I guess I’m kinda sorry.” Kara hopes she didn’t leave out anything else for Alex to bring up.

“You’re damn right, you’re an idiot.”

It isn’t the most volcanic of responses. Yet, Kara flinches, letting her eyes look for something on the ground to focus on. Even after years of estrangement, letting Alex down scares the shit out of her. There is still something sacred about what they used to have.

“I’m sorry.”

Because her mind decided to inspect the bottom of a wheeled table, it takes a while for Kara to realize it wasn’t her who said it. She looks up and instantly sees that Alex _does_ look sorry. Her facial muscles are in some twist, obviously not used to being arranged as such.

“I’m sorry that I made you feel that you can’t trust me,” she says. “I should’ve checked up on you. If I made you feel safe, then you would have come to me about Lena.”

“Oh.”

“The DEO obviously can’t know about this. Not until I’m sure we have no CADMUS moles left. But as long as I have a say, I won’t let Lord or any other billionerd touch you.”

There’s a small stretch of silence before any of them catch on. It’s Winn, absolutely forgotten and halfway through prying himself off a panel board, who snorts first. “Did you just say billionerd?”

Alex glares at him, and Kara tries, oh boy does she try to glare too. But she only lasts two seconds before breaking, her stifled breaths dribbling into full on cackling. It wasn’t even that funny. Alex soon joins them as if she didn’t just perform a medical procedure involving blood and titanium. For a while, the room is just filled with their frolic and the beeping of Lena’s monitor.

“You’re still a little funny sometimes.”

“And you’re still an idiot,” Alex says. “I can’t kill you because Eliza will come back from the grave to kill me, so I’m just going to send your pager beeping for eternity.”

“Sounds good to me.”

And it does, a little bit, except in their mirth, Alex has somehow sidled towards their patient.

“Luthor gets a pass for saving your ass, but Kara,” she says, pausing more to calculate than to incite effect. Kara wonders if people will ever stop taking this tone with her. “You need to tell me everything. Whatever it is that you and her are planning _clearly_ needs supervision, if not stopping.”

“Who says we’re planning anything?”

“Kara,” Alex says. “You’re in Luthor’s basement. You tried taking out the shards of Kryptonite with your bare hands. You’re worried about her. And from what you told me, she was worried enough to risk her life and save you from Lord Industries.”

Alex was stating the obvious, but Kara hasn’t given herself a break to think about what has happened. Lena did risk her life by wearing a suit powered by unstable and volatile Harun-el. It was dumber than anything Kara has done and that’s saying something.

“We’re not working together, Alex.”

“They’re not,” Winn adds, if only out of habit. It’s a reflex cultivated from when he used to cover for Kara back in Catco. “I- I was helping Kara get to the bottom of Lena’s plans.”

“Look,” Alex says, altogether ignoring him. “It may _still_ come as a shock to you and your Kryptonian mind but I’m not an idiot. One look at this place tells me enough.”

Alex looks around as if to demonstrate. Kara wants to tell her that’s like a few looks more than one already, but she just might get herself yeeted out.

“There are no signs of machines or weapons for detaining an alien,” says Alex. “Sure, she has Lex’s suit somehow powered by black kryptonite, yet she is more equipped to aid Kryptonian life than the DEO ever has been. Her sun bed looks better than ours for crying out loud. They don’t look new, so they’ve been moved, not recently built. Unless she’s been working with another Kryptonian for years, you’re going to explain to me what you two are up to. Are you working with her? Or _For_ her? Is she paying you to do something? Is she _blackmailing_ you to do something?”

“Alex… that’s the thing. I went to Lord industries to check if Lena’s telling the truth about companies that own alien weapons. She was. She’s been telling the truth about her projects so far.”

Alex’s brows almost meet. Her eyes scan the sun bed, the docks, and various bays as if she has x-ray vision herself.

“Clark can't possibly be working with a Luthor can he?”

She doesn’t wait for Kara to respond. She jumps into the question they’re both afraid may have an answer. “If not you, and not him, then who has she been using these machines for?”

Kara hears the outer shell of the bunker open. Her sister has probably noticed her freezing because she, too, freezes.

“I can hear through the walls,” Kara says, ignoring Alex’s short fuse for hearing things she already knows. “Most of Lex’s properties were lined with lead. This isn’t.” She bounces on the balls of her feet, comprehension dawning almost as soon as she speaks. “Because I can’t hear from the outside, but I can hear from the inside. It’s lined with volidium, Alex. Volidum.” She repeats the rare element’s name as if that would make her sister look less lost.

“Alex, you’re right. It’s like Lena built this place _for_ my kind.”

“Why are you always still surprised when I’m right?”

Kara ignores her because as the footsteps draw closer without so much as stopping to key in passcodes, it becomes clearer that none of the alarms ring. It must be someone who has full access to the lab.

 _Another Kryptonian._ Alex just might be right about that too.

“So what _did_ you hear?” Whatever fluids make up Kryptonian stomachs churn at Alex’s prodding. Because as exciting as this all is, an intruder with full access to this facility may either have weapons of mass destruction or have all the answers. Kara can’t decide which one is more terrifying.

“Authorised entry. I’m hearing authorised entry.”

They walk to the anteroom. Kara puts herself between the door and her sister. Alex draws her gun and points it towards the door anyway. When Winn follows with exaggerated tiptoeing, Kara doesn’t bother telling him to go back inside with Lena. He stops awkwardly behind Alex but he doesn’t take out his own gun.

None of them takes so much as a breath when the door eventually opens very slowly.

“Lena?”

The voice calls to the room, giving way to a body, a woman’s body with dark hair and bright eyes. She halts at the sight of them. Before Kara could even make sense of the intruder, Alex cocks her gun and points.

“Hands up,” says Alex, who is alarmed to see the woman complying without resistance, without much thought. Despite being outnumbered and threatened, there is nothing subdued about the intruder. If anything, it’s her, Alex, and Winn who seem accosted by the one with authorised access. It’s first class entertainment, really.

Kara could’ve zipped behind her and held her down. This could be over without unnecessary fanfare but she just stares. She stares because the woman is pretty, because the woman doesn’t look at all like she works here, because the woman is craning her neck to look past them with an air of utter devotion. Kara knows she’s thinking about Lena.

And then the woman says softly, without bite, and most importantly looking dead straight at Alex, “Please don’t be an idiot.”

Kara gawks. She officially blanks, and then she starts laughing because _of course_ it had to be someone strange. They all simultaneously turn to her, incredulous. Alex once told her she’d make a bad superhero because she laughs at the most inappropriate of times. 

“What?” She says to them, as if they’re missing something obvious. “I bet no one’s called Alex an idiot in years.”

The alleged idiot rolls her eyes. It does nothing to compose Kara. Alex takes this as her cue that she’s going to have to handle this by herself. “Who are you and what are you doing in Luthor’s lab?”

“I’m the CEO of L corp.”

Kara raises her brows and scoffs. “And I’m from the future.”

“You are?” the woman says as if Kara may very well be.

It’s Kara’s turn to be incredulous. “Are you for real?”

The woman tilts her head as if to consider. “As far as I know.”

“I asked you who you are,” Alex repeats.

“Samantha Arias,” she says. “Lena sent me a stress signal. Did you do anything to her?”

She sounds too polite, and far too calm for someone being held at gunpoint. Kara finds it unsettling enough to placate her with an answer. “Lena’s alright. Just… sleeping. I think.” She turns to Alex and with all of her vocal folds, she whispers “Alex! Alex, I think she’s lying. She’s too polite to be Lena’s friend.”

“Why are you whispering? We can all hear you.”

Kara makes a face at her sister. The woman called Samantha frowns at them. Her confusion is the closest she’s ever looked to distress. And then she looks up, following a movement somewhere from behind Alex.

“Um, hi,” Winn says. “Hi, please ignore this one’s weird whispering. She just got her head hit. She’s right about your friend, though. Dr. Luthor is recovering.” Somehow, neither Kara nor Alex stop him from ambling past them. They have almost forgotten he’s in the room. 

“I’m Winslow Schott,” he says, most definitely itching to offer his hand, too. “Sorry, but did you say you’re Samantha Arias? _The_ Samantha Arias?”

Kara groans. She shouldn’t be surprised.

“Really, guys,” Winn says, shooting the sisters a patronising look. It looks so awkward on him that they almost let him have this. “It should be alarming that _you_ guys don’t even know any women of science.”

“Alex _is_ a woman of science.”

“She’s your sister. You’re literally forced to know her. Doesn’t count.”

“Hey,” Alex says to get both of them to focus, and to feign offence.

This gets Samantha’s attention. As if finally deciding that Alex is the only one with at least two brain cells in the room, she comes for her. Her sister tenses, her grip around her weapon doubling. The sight of it doesn’t stop the woman’s advance.

Without warning, she picks up the empty vials left on the table. Kara, Winn and Alex hold their breaths as Samantha examines it closely. She draws it even closer for a _sniff_. She nods to herself, if not to any of them. Then, she digs into her pocket and holds her palm towards Alex, opening it to show her own vial. The contents look almost identical to the one Alex brought.

“She sent me a text with only one thing - titanium k-1” She’s still speaking so softly, Kara wonders if her CEO voice sounded the same. “Did yours work?”

Alex lowers her gun, if only slightly. “It- it um, I guess you can see for yourself.”

Kara opens her mouth, because holy shit, is Alex Danvers stammering? She catches Kara’s eyes and gestures something her kryptonite exposed brain is too drunk to understand. “Follow her,” Alex tells Samantha.

Oddly, or not oddly at all, it is Alex’s prompt for their guest that Kara takes as her personal order. When they enter, she turns to watch Samantha pausing by the doorway at the sight of Lena.

“Lena,” she whispers before stepping past Kara. Not for the first time since she waltzed into the lab did Kara wonder who this woman is to Lena. Samantha, if that’s her real name, scans Lena’s body from head to toe. Kara gets a weird feeling that she can see through skin. She all but loses it when the woman nods to herself.

“She’s going to be fine,” Samantha announces as if she’s the one who’s been working on Lena’s recovery.

Alex wasn’t having it. “I know. I made sure of it.”

Kara could almost feel the heat between the two women. She wonders if this is normal among medical experts because she’s sure she’s no longer part of this conversation. Winn looks like he might just be wondering the same thing.

Neither of them interrupts, wanting to see who wins this staring contest. After what seemed like forever, Samantha holds up her hands, palms facing Alex to show her it’s empty. She places one hand on the nose of Alex’s gun, and another on the hand employing it. Kara watches as they lower their arms, eyes not leaving each other.

“Thank you,” Samantha finally says. “For saving her.”

She turns to Kara, probably to extend the gratitude.

“I know Lena would eventually run into trouble in National City, and that when she does, it would have something to do with you, Kara Danvers.”

Kara Danvers is frozen in place. She can feel Alex tense all over again, can hear her gripping her gun.

“Lena told you about me?”

And then finally revealing herself to be just as impossible as the unconscious woman lying next to her, she laughs. She laughs like that’s supposed to explain something.

“She’s only the president of your fan club.”

“What?”

“You’ll need to hear her out when she wakes up. It looks like she has a lot of explaining left to do.”

Alex eases her grip, as if the woman has said something that adds up, and Kara wants to scream because even Winn looks less lost than Kara probably does. Samantha turns her attention back to Alex, who has relaxed but still has not let go of her gun.

“How do you know how to alter titanium for this?”

“It’s a long story,” Alex supplies, exchanging a look with Kara. 

The woman shrugs. “I have all day.”

“Don’t you have a company to run?”

“Not when this one’s being dumb,” Samantha says, sticking a thumb out towards the bedridden. “I’m sure you know the feeling.” She glances from Kara to Alex to Kara and back again.

“Yeah.” The edges of Alex’s mouth work to stifle a smile. “Yeah I do.”

“Hey,” Kara gripes, but not out of offence. Not really. This woman may or may not have just called her dumb and she kinda _likes_ her. Alex might be just as charmed because the next time she speaks, she doesn’t bother hiding her amusement. 

“Well, I’m Special Agent Danvers. I’m this one’s sister.”

“And _I’m_ this one’s sister,” Samantha says, glancing at Lena. “Well, not really, but I might as well be.” Lena's might-as-well-be-sister smiles brightly.

Slowly, Alex nods, but halts midway as she realises something. “Wait. How did _you_ know how to alter titanium?”

When Samantha only blinks at Alex, Alex reaches into her pocket and takes out her badge.

“What?”

“Consider this a state sponsored investigation, Ms. Arias.”

“Please. It’s just Sam.”

“Ok, just Sam.”

Even with her gun and her badge out, Alex doesn’t seem in a hurry. There is mere curiosity in place of urgency. They might as well be having coffee at the National City Science Hub several storeys up. Kara blinks at them because what is going on? She looks over at Winn who looks to be more taken by the fact that three of his favorite scientists are in the same room.

The anticipation is broken when they hear a stir. Lena has somehow chosen this time to wake up. As she tries to sit up, Kara instantly finds herself next to her, placing a hand flush on Lena’s back as if to dispense energy.

“Kara?” Her voice comes out raspy. It takes her a moment to see the others in the room. Her mouth hangs open but nothing comes out, leaving Kara to interpret her eyes.

Alex could’ve easily been the red flag, but it’s the sight of Alex next to the woman called Samantha that appears to drain Lena of color all over again. Boy does she have a lot of explaining to do. Kara watches Lena’s head dropping to her palms as if in prayer, her words coming out muffled. It sounds an awful lot like “Oh, fuck me.”

* * *

To nobody’s surprise and Kara’s frustration, Lena decides to spend her first hour after nearly dying moving around the lab. It reminds Kara of when she tailed Lena. It was right after her stint at the hospital. Not for the first time, she wondered how used the woman must be to near death experiences.

Before her stands a slim glass case. A naked, headless mannequin faces her from the inside. Kara waits for Lena to tell her what exactly it is she’s looking at, but the woman is taking too long. She went to retrieve something ( _did she just fetch a stick?)_ and is now meandering back too slowly. Although she looks hardly shaken by the Harun-el poisoning, she’s obviously still too weak to be doing anything out of bed. Kara has half a mind to cross the aisle and just pick her up already.

Before she can get a word out, Lena holds up her free hand. “Kara, I know you’re standing in front of a naked mannequin. No, I am not starting a niche collection of some sort, and no that is not the preserved cadaver of a decapitated human.”

“How’d you know what I was going to say?”

“The Blur is apparently the same woman who’s about as mature as a twelve-year old. You couldn’t help it if you tried.”

“Says the woman who made me drive around following her for no practical reason.”

“Well, I’m not the one who showed up in a Halloween costume.”

Kara bites her lip to stop a laughing fit but fails spectacularly. “That was still funny though, wasn’t it?”

Shaking her head, Lena finally makes it to Kara’s side. They give the mannequin the attention it demands by merely standing naked in a bulletproof case. Lena connects the metal rod, which upon closer inspection has distinct patterns on its tip, to the cavity right beside the glass case. In her periphery, Kara sees Lena most definitely glancing at her, stalling for Rao knows what. She must’ve found what she’s looking for because she plunges the rod into the hole and twists as if it were a key to a lock.

What appears to be a layer of dark cloth rises from the bottom of the mannequin. They envelope its legs, torso, and arms. In only a matter of seconds, the naked mannequin is no longer well, naked. It looks to be donning a thin fitted sheet of clothing meant for flexibility.

“What’s this supposed to be? Lexosuit 2.0?”

Kara damn well knows that the lithe armour isn’t a Lexosuit. It isn’t like anything she has ever seen. But even after the woman beside her did just almost die saving her life, she couldn’t help but to keep testing her. Maybe all it would take for Lena to show her colours as the standard condescending Luthor, is for Kara to fall short of her expectations.

Lena absolutely wasn’t having it. “It’s not perfect," she relays as if Kara didn't just ask a useless question. “But it can bounce off negative energy from any known kryptonite.”

The lab suddenly falls quiet, as if the machines are giving way to a secret. Lena shivers under her gaze. Before Kara became aware of it, she had ventured a step into Lena’s space. Perhaps it’s to watch her more closely for lies. Perhaps it's simply to radiate body heat. Lena does look cold after all. She clutches her coat and pulls it tighter around herself. It’s Samantha’s, Kara notes. She gave it to her before she left at Lena’s request.

Kara all but wanted to run to the lab’s loft office where Sam, Alex, and Winn were told to wait. In the moments following Lena’s recovery, she revealed to them who Samantha Arias really is. They were bent on calling it a bluff, but The Other Kryptonian simply hovered five feet in the air to demonstrate. A million questions shot up Kara’s spine. Alex is no doubt having a field day throwing Sam the obvious ones. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have let Lena have her private word with Kara. 

“Was this… for Sam?”

Lena’s eyes dart from the suit to the other Kryptonian friendly mechanisms in the facility. She must understand what Kara is really asking. Had she built this entire lab for Sam? Is Lena really that far removed from the Luthors? 

“Yes, and no. It _is_ for her. She even helped me build devices. But it was ultimately so she could help me with the renewable energy project.”

“Just like you’re making me do.” She could’ve imagined it but she’s almost certain Lena somewhat recoiled. Kara might as well have slapped her. She tries not to waver when Lena’s eyes water. This is not the time. Lena knows who The Blur is now, knows what she cares about. Kara hasn’t grasped any particular line of defence, but there’s no point in delaying the part where the Luthor blackmails the Super.

“I’m not making you to do anything you don’t want to,” says Lena.

“What happened? Why did you have to come to me when you have her?”

Lena straightens her back, not without difficulty. “Her daughter, Ruby is growing up.”

“You mean there’s a Kryptonian child running around?”

“Half Kryptonian.”

“Wow. And you just what… let her off?”

“What else would I have done?”

“I don’t know. Blackmail her?”

“Right. I forgot you don’t know me.”

“I know you wouldn’t just let her go after you spent billions for this lab. I mean come on. It’s almost as equipped as the fortress of- uh… I mean-”

“The fortress?”

For a brief moment, Kara considers flying out the chute she just learned about. Or maiming herself. She expects Lena to probe further. Instead, she does worse by carrying on as if the slip up didn’t happen.

“It’s not that bad of a trade off, Kara,” Lena says. “Sam now runs L Corp for me, and she’s happy. That’s more than I could want.”

Kara has trouble believing that. Her mind latches on what Lena is really doing—dispelling the tension between them and the information on the fortress. It was just like when she didn’t push the questions about Jeremiah. Lena has not let the matter go, no. She has merely filed the information for a much later use. Kara makes a mental note to send a message to Kalex just in case.

“Why me, Lena?”

The woman frowns, confused. Kara thinks to clarify this by bringing up all the other aliens and meta humans who would be more than eager to help. But the creases above Lena’s eyes relocate. The rest of her face goes through a journey from confusion to understanding to something she cannot name. Something resolute. She settles for looking at Kara with a small smile. By the end of it, Kara is nothing if not parched for whatever answers the woman has just been clobbered with.

“You don’t get it, do you?” Her voice is so soft, Kara might not have heard it if not for her exceptional hearing.

Lena extends her hand out, vying to examine Kara’s forearms. The Kryptonian almost leans in. Besides a vague memory of Lena smiling down at her that might have been a fever dream, she was unconscious when Lena carried her here. Perhaps with a single touch, she’d find out what that must’ve felt like. Instead, she speaks. “Don’t get what?”

“That there’s no one like you,” Lena says, letting her hand fall. “You saw the binder. I tracked your missions all over the planet. I had a theory that if a Kryptonian is doing that in secret, then they must have the people’s best interests at heart. That they know the solution has never been to just give them a symbol of hope to look up to. I assumed that perhaps whoever this Kryptonian is, they know that people don’t _only_ need saving. They need the barriers to equality collapsed so that no one would need saving in the first place.”

Kara becomes all too aware of the still, dense air. In all the scenarios she imagined being this understood, she always pictured Alex in it. Sometimes even imagining Kal coming to his senses sparked temporary reprieve. She never could’ve imagined it would actually be like this, with Lena Luthor saying the exact words she needed to hear.

“It was only when I took you out of Lord’s plant, and held you in my arms that I knew for sure.”

 _Held you in my arms._ “What do you mean?”

“You’re not just The Blur with Kryptonian powers. You’re Kara Danvers.”

If she were having this conversation with anyone else, she would’ve joked about how they’ve already established that. But it’s Lena. She didn’t just save her life. She apparently speaks her language. Of course there’s an immediate need to know what Kara Danvers means to her. She can tell that Lena knows she must’ve said something right. She must know because she balks, probably refusing to speak for fear of ruining the moment. The few seconds of hesitation stretch on entirely too long, Kara almost _floats_ when she speaks.

“What I’m trying to say is,” Lena says, fidgeting with the hem of Sam’s jacket. “You being a Kryptonian wouldn’t mean as much as it does if it were someone else. When I first studied your files, I had a not so passing thought that if I could find a super who was anything like Kara Danvers, then perhaps, I have a shot. That I’m not crazy for trying. It would mean my assumptions about the Kryptonian we called The Blur prove more truths than I need.”

Something must be altering the laws of physics around them, because the same Luthor who had the audacity to buy her a cup of coffee and prank her with code seems almost shy.

“If The Blur shared a fraction of Kara Danvers’ grit and heart, then it means a hundred mile lead to where I need to be.” Then as though it’s been months, not just hours that passed since the incident, Lena adds, “Imagine my delight when I blasted into Lord’s and saw what Kryptonite was doing to you.”

It was an accidental poor choice of words, Kara knows. But she says nothing, letting the woman thaw where she stands. Sheer horror takes residence on Lena’s face. Both of her hands shoot up, stopping only to wring the air between them.

“I’m sorry that must’ve sounded wrong,” says Lena. “What I mean is that I discovered you’re a Kryptonian. I found out that you’re _you_. You can’t expect me to not give it my best shot.”

Her well orchestrated wording and timing doesn’t escape Kara. Lena has probably acquired mergers the same way. Through performance. How else could she have gotten away with piecing together these technologies under Lex Luthor’s nose? But the fat chance of this being the truth, and the thought of Lena being alone in it as Kara has been is almost too much to bear.

“Give it your best shot then,” says Kara.

It must’ve been the right thing to say, but as soon as Lena finds relief, she falters. There are simply too many things standing in the way of Lena’s smile.

“Kara, I can’t do it.”

“Can’t do what?”

“Earlier, you asked me to look you in the eye and tell you I’m not like my family. I can’t do that.”

Lena looks away. It might be to grasp for anything that will save her from this line of fire, or just to take a break from their apparent proximity. Crossing her arms has made Kara aware of how close they’re really standing. Their jackets nearly meet.

“Okay,” Kara says, speaking very slowly. “How about you just show me instead?”

Lena frowns in surprise, so Kara tilts her head to the not-lexosuit. “What’s your pitch?”

And then there it is, the small matter that is Lena’s smile. It starts slowly, tentatively and spreads as if Kara had already said yes.

“I- I’m not really as good at pitching as you think.” She swallows, and turns to the suited up mannequin before them. “Well, as I said earlier, this tech, when I finally finish it, is supposed to numb the effects of Kryptonite completely.”

It seems highly questionable how a thin piece of clothing can do just that. But someone with Kara’s vision would be able to see that the fabric is not, in fact, fabric. They’re tightly packed bots that give off familiar vibrations, and allow no space between them.

Under her gaze, they disappear. Or not quite. They turn into a thin film, and through which, Kara can see beyond the glass case. Lena must have entered a new command for the bots to turn invisible. She catches sight of Lena’s hand resting beside the panel buttons, having most certainly just pressed one of them.

“Nanobots” Kara blurts out, as if to excuse her mouth from hanging open. “Nanobots for camouflage. Of course. Why didn’t I think of that?”

“Because for you, Kara, it’s retro science.”

“What?”

“On Krypton, you never had to worry about Kryptonite,” Lena says. “And I’m guessing from your sloppy work in code-

-if you’re trying to get me in your favour, you’re going to have to do better than that”

“Fine. I’m guessing from your _mediocre_ work in code (“Hey!”), that you’ve never had to deal with Earth’s level of technology. In Krypton, everything is either far more advanced or operates on very different laws of science.”

“Sure. Well, _you’_ ve never had to deal with technology from Krypton.”

“No?” Lena says, confused. “I can’t say I have.”

“Yet here you are making technology suited for my kind.” Kara hovers her hand over a small gun. It didn’t look intimidating, but its coating radiates with hydrillium, a substance that can shelter and launch z-grade bullets with incredible velocity.

“Did Sam help you?” 

“Of course. Her super speed helped me build a lot of these without employing anyone else.”

“No, I mean. Did she help you design them?”

“I guess she did, but in the way of speculative science. If you mean to ask if she- well, she doesn’t remember anything from Krypton. She was a baby when her pod crashed here.”

“Oh,” Kara says. It’s all she can do to keep the disappointment. Yet another Kryptonian who will never share her love and pain of having lost the planet.

She must’ve sounded pathetic, because when her eyes meet Lena’s again, they’re fraught with concern. Kara steels herself for practiced words of pity. But Lena, she doesn’t say anything. Instead, she offers a nod towards the gun.

Lena steps away to pull one of the small levers on the panel. The glass casing slides away from the centre, leaving the suit unprotected. Kara understands immediately. She takes the gun carefully, and aims it at the mannequin’s chest. 

Shifting her optic receptors to slow motion, she pulls the trigger. The gun heats up a little, and launches a ball of blue fire out its subtly glowing nose. Even with slow motion sight, the ball heads straight for the suit quicker than expected. The air rings as it’s ripped with a force more powerful than the size of the gun suggests. When it reaches its target, it combusts the nanobots in its way. The bots don’t rip apart, but the blue fire might have gone through them. Just when Kara’s prepared to question the protective quality of the suit, the bots lining the chest glow.

“It’s inertron.”

Lena’s voice should’ve immediately jerked Kara’s sight back to normal speed, but they exchange a look that feels even slower than anticipated. She takes the moment to study Lena’s face, telling herself it’s to watch for traces of deception. The only thing that seems to register is that under the lab’s light, her left eye seems to be more blue than green. Is this woman even real? She manages to look away, and only then do things move at regular speed.

“The bots are made of it,” Lena repeats. “It deflects bullets and missiles, and absorbs the energy of most alien firepower.”

Lena turns the large rod-like key counterclockwise, and Kara watches as the bots collapse into their secret chamber under the mannequin’s feet. It stands once again naked, bearing no signs of damage, as if Kara didn’t just fire a Z-grade alien blaster at it.

And that’s when she finally gets it. She gets Winn’s tendency to drool at the mere mention of Luthor’s tech. Kara doesn’t know how long her mouth has hung open, but it must’ve been since she watched the gun fail in its assault. Lena’s low confident voice isn’t helping her dry throat.

“Inertron is a thirtieth century metal. It’s more powerful than promethium.”

“Lena, I-” Kara wants to say she’s amazing, that she’s nothing like anyone she’s ever met. For now, she gestures vaguely at the suit, the gun and the entirety of the lab. “It must have taken at least a decade to make all this even with Sam’s help. Are these all you’ve been building?” 

“Hardly, if you count these.”

Lena has started down an aisle flanked by veiled contraptions.

“What are these, your high school projects?”

She meant it as a joke, but the makings of an excited smile tempt Lena’s lips. It’s infectious.

“Some were from earlier.”

* * *

For a suspended moment, Kara is twelve again, back at the Science Guild. She wagers that Sam and Alex could use more time glaring at each other. With her glacial pace and Kara’s relentless curiosity about each unfamiliar technology, it’s a wonder they get to cover anything at all.

Some look more put together than the others. Many seem to be abandoned or put on hold, and lie beneath thick canvas cloths. To Lena’s horror and amusement, Kara unveils them one by one as if to present science fair projects (“Relax, I have super speed. I promise to tuck them back in their blankets.”)

They somehow fall into a game. Lena explains the function of each device, and Kara christens them with the most incorrect of names. The more she annoys Lena, the more colour the woman regains on her face. It was thrilling. And Kara has absolutely no business making a habit of it.

After making a show of launching the “atomic egg frother” and wearing the “flying squirrel hover board” that supposedly runs on fart fuel, they reach one of the smaller contraptions. Kara thinks to bypass it in favour of the larger one next to it, but she catches a look in Lena’s eyes. She stakes a tentative step backwards, stopping right in front of the smaller figure, and watches as Lena swallows. 

She raises her hand and clutches the cloth covering it. “What’s this?”

When Lena’s heartbeat quickens in response, Kara pulls. Before them lies an unremarkable toast box-ish disappointment. Hardly anything that can explain Lena’s trepidation. “So does it tell you your future? Like how many toasts you’ll get to eat before you die?”

Lena shrugs, but curses when her heart beat only speeds up. She obviously knows Kara can hear it.

“Well, what was it supposed to be?” 

“It’s nothing. A failed project.”

Kara thinks to play with the levers and to bring it to life, but Lena walks past her without a word. She takes a leaf from Lena’s book. She doesn’t push the question, filing it away in favour of bringing it up later. _Later_. She really must have hit her head harder than she thought. There is still nothing wise about spending time conspiring with someone full of secrets.

“Kara, I think we’ve kept Sam and Agent Danvers waiting long enough.”

“What?”

“I promised you time with Sam didn’t I?”

Lena must’ve thought she’s scared, and if Kara were to get in touch with something as obnoxious as feelings, she realises that she just might be.

“Sam is not exactly a fairy to strangers,” says Lena. “Especially to ones who drive me crazy.”

 _Elaborate_ , Kara wants to say, but this doesn’t seem to be the time and place for that.

“But believe me, I bet my entire lab that she’s going to give me hell for keeping you away from her for this long.”

“That’s like, a lot to bet with,” says Kara, who has started picking up the nearby canvas sheets. In one fell swoop, she caps the thirty six apparatuses from Lena's childhood. By the time she skids to a stop in front of Lena, barely any time has passed.

“It is," Lena agrees playfully, seeming unfazed by the display of Kryptonian powers. "But Sam has been counting on me to find you.”

* * *

Thank you for reading! Twitter: @ [chaoticvirgo2](https://twitter.com/ChaoticVirgo2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The laws and classifications of kryptonite is different here. I'm just tweaking it based off the many interpretations in both the comics and the show. They'll become clearer as the story progresses.
> 
> Despite the seeming order of this whole thing, it's probably becoming obvious that I'm chaotic af so I apologize in advance for inconsistencies, grammar, spelling errors, and if you point them out I would appreciate it immensely. I'm learning how to write so any interaction for that or even just remarks is largely appreciated. Thank you again for reading. You're stellar for even reaching this point. I can only hope this is as entertaining for you as it is for me. Stay safe out there!


	7. Two Birds. One stone.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The last daughters of Krypton talk.
> 
> Lena is somehow shy??
> 
> Someone pins someone down on the mat ;)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies in advance for inconsistencies, grammar and spelling errors. I haven't had time to edit this at all. Feel free to point them out. Your comments make me smile. A lot, actually.

Lena was right. Sam must’ve counted on her to find Kara. The minute they’re granted their moment alone, Kara turns to find the woman already smiling at her. 

“Kara,” she says not like a greeting but like she’s practicing a new word for the first time.

“Sam,” Kara replies in what she hopes is the same tone.

“You’re not what I expected. You seem…” Sam peeks at her curiously, as if to look for the word in the planes and lines of Kara’s face. “young.”

“You-” Kara starts, wanting to know what her age has to do with anything. Instead, she asks, “You expected me?”

“My best friend’s only been stalking your work for three years, so yes. I expected you.”

“But Kara, I had no idea The Blur would be the same girl she’s admired from afar.”

Kara almost bites her tongue at the impulse to ask what that means. Afar is relative. Admiring can mean a thousand other things. But she’s not here to learn about what Lena thinks of her. A warm, living daughter of her home planet is standing right before her for crying out loud.

“So,” Kara says, pocketing her hands as one would to avoid fidgeting. “You’re really from Krypton?”

“That’s where I was made, yes.”

“Made?”

Sam only watches her, as if imploring her to put the pieces together on her own. She reminds her a little of Lena, Kal, and her own mother. What is it with people expecting her to read their minds? She thinks to finally ask but her thoughts weren’t cooperating. The pieces that come to her just rearrange themselves, slotting into place. Just the way they’d expect. Perhaps the expectations are her own fault after all.

“So it’s true then,” Kara finally says. “The Children of Juru _were_ making children.”

“Worldkillers. They were making Worldkillers.”

World Killers are destined to well, destroy worlds. In the case of Krypton, planetary warming just beat them to it. Of all the midwives’ tales, and conspiracy theories, the myth of worldkillers was the least likely to be true. Yet a seed of doubt has taken root in Kara long before she was sent to Earth. Why else would nana Thara-kun be punished for telling such stories? She can feel the same seed calling to her now.

She believes her. The worldkiller before her reeks of menacing strength, but not without bearing the name Samantha Arias, a daughter, and the softest of brown eyes and she believes her. For all her cynicism, that’s how Kara works after all. She harvests from seeds that have long since grown. Today is no different.

“Are you- why are you not- what happened?”

“Lena happened.”

Almost as a reflex, her chest warms. Perhaps it’s the novelty of sharing something with this woman besides being a kryptonian. Perhaps it’s the validation that in joining a Luthor, she’s making the right choice, not just the only choice. She notes how much she will absolutely deny feeling that relief, but like a curse, truths have the habit of taking root.

 _Lena happened._ Sam said it so easily. Like maybe she’s already been asked the question. Alex probably beat her to it.

“Lena didn’t really have friends and didn’t seem keen on making any. Her ex-girlfriend doesn’t really count even though she insists she and Andrea were friends. When she let our partnership lapse into friendship, I should’ve known it was for an ulterior motive.”

Kara knows Samantha is trying to tell her something important, but her mind is stuck because _ex-girlfriend._ Because _Andrea._ Lena Luthor likes girls. She snaps out of it when she finds Sam giving her a look that makes her wonder if worldkillers can read minds.

“Apparently, she had her suspicions that I’m an alien. I thought of it as a betrayal because I really thought she saw me as a person. Apparently, I might as well be under her microscope.”

Sam isn’t exactly making a very good case for Lena. She must’ve mistaken Kara’s confusion for judgement because she quickly follows up with her defense.

“You have to understand… Luthors. They were raised to destroy anything more powerful than them. I knew about CADMUS. I know that’s probably why you didn’t just jump on her crusade. Your sister isn’t very happy about finding you and Lena in the same place, wasn’t she?”

“Ha. You have no idea.”

“But apparently, Lena sought me because she saw a vision. She makes the oddest of friends, mind you.”

Kara can bet her entire van and her extra tires that she knows who that friend is. _How old is Nia, exactly?_

“A Naltorian saw a vision. That I would destroy the world. That the worldkiller called Reign would wake up and take over my body.”

“So Lena, let me guess, she extracted this worldkiller, this Reign from you.”

Kara takes a seat, and then stands up again, a crescendo of truths hitting her at once.

“Lena wasn’t only putting you out of commission because of Ruby, was she? Reign, like pure energy cannot be destroyed. It can only be transformed, and there’s a possibility that whatever form Lena changed it to can still be drawn to your powers. That’s why you can’t risk using them.”

Instead of being quick to reply as she has been so far, Sam only smiles. She must’ve not even realized Kara was waiting for her to affirm.

“Sorry,” Sam finally says. “It’s just that. Lena wouldn’t shut up about your deductive skills. It’s different finally witnessing it in person.” 

As if forgetting what they were talking about, too, Kara smiles back. How does Lena Luthor manage to derail an entire conversation without her being in the room?

“Sam, would you have been ready to do it?”

“To do what?”

“Would you have done what Lena is asking of me?”

“I thought I did. But even before I tried that world saving responsibility I didn’t really want, Lena told me I should just focus on raising Ruby. I _know_ I can do both, but if there comes a time where I’d have to choose between Ruby and the world, I don’t think I’d be able to choose anything other than Ruby. I’m not exactly superhero material.”

“Stronger together,” Kara finds herself whispering. It’s been a long time since she last said that. 

“What?”

“You can’t really say what constitutes being a hero, or what counts as strength in the face of adversity. The only thing for sure is that it’s better when you're not alone.”

“And she’s wise, too,” Sam says. “Is that your motto or something?”

Kara could laugh. She is literally living in a van, fenced away from her family and former friends, rescued from an enemy’s lair by her supposed nemesis. Stronger together must be on leave. She really could be laughing right now.

Except that would sound condescending. Doing that to a Kryptonian who only ever wanted to meet one of her kind is the last thing she wants to do.

“No,” Kara says, smothering her laugh with words instead. “It’s Kryptonian. That’s what the crest in Superman’s costume, I mean uniform, means. It’s passed on from our house, but I guess it’s for whoever exemplifies that.”

“That’s beautiful.”

“It was,” says Kara. “Do you remember anything of Krypton?”

She still held out hope that maybe Lena was just lying about Sam’s pod crashing here when she was but a baby, or that maybe Sam just didn’t want Lena to know.

“No,” Sam says, unaware of Kara’s yearning. “I was hoping you could fill me in.”

* * *

The problem with Maxwell Lord is that he’s right. It hasn’t even been a week since the alleged kryptonian clogged the news outlets, and The Blur has already had to quell three aliens and three metahumans trying to get her attention.

The public attacks were blatantly meant to lure her out. The government, CADMUS, corporations, media organizations, the general public, and the outlier of scheming aliens are all suspects at this point. She wouldn't be surprised if they’re paid by Maxwell Lord himself just so he could prove a point.

If she thought about it, really thought about it, and not just waded through the clumsy resignation to all hell breaking loose, she might have taken a step back and let the DEO handle it. If her sister didn’t do combat work for the DEO, Kara would have taken the backseat. As it is, she spent most of the week flying (dragging) the assailants to the center of the nearest deserts so she can properly knock them out without the public making a feast of it. So far, the attacks ended with their capture and zero surveillance footage.

But until when can she keep this up? For every two of those captures, Kara has had to make use of Lena’s sun bed. Whenever she’d wake up, the scene was almost worse than the actual fight. The aftermath was a flurry of morse code from her sister, of letting the Luthor prove Kara’s dependence this early in their partnership, and of the woman skirting around some probably legitimate concern.

Kara liked it better when Lena would throw insufferable comments without thinking twice. Now it’s like she’s thinking twice about _looking_ Kara in the eye. She’s been nothing but a thinking mess behind her welding mask and blow torches.

By the time Kara hauled herself in for her third solar flaring recharge, Lena only looked up from her work, not bothering to rush to her. Kara tried not to think about how it’s probably because the first two times Lena helped her on the bed, Kara waved her off like a fly. Now, the Luthor merely arches an eyebrow to ask permission to help.

She wants to be grateful for that, for that gesture of being left the fuck alone to her own devices like she’s used to, but today, she can’t even sit up to activate the sensors and the sun lamps. It was her first time dealing with a speedster, and Kal who has dealt with far more skilled ones didn’t exactly teach her how to slow them down. Determined not to hail Lena as backup like she offered, Kara had to figure it out herself. It involved an intense blow by blow and a use of her super speed like never before. We’re talking opposite direction.

“Lena,” Kara says. She may or may not have whimpered. She tries to call out one more time, fighting for consciousness. But when she feels the woman’s hand on her arm, she lets the world turn dark.

* * *

When Kara wakes, it’s to a head that can move without vomiting. In fact, she feels nothing short of fantastic. Lena’s sunbed is criminally better than the makeshift sun lamps at Alex’s apartment. She tries not to think about whether or not her sister has kept the set all these years.

“Good morning, Kara,” Lena says, like she’s actually having a good morning.

“How long was I out?”

“Give or take three moon cycles,” says Lena sounding almost like the woman she met. Ever since she discovered Kara is the kryptonian she’s been tracking down for years, Lena’s been acting like she’s met someone entirely new, someone not entirely Kara Danvers.

Kara sits up, squinting at the excess of light. She switches off the yellow sun lamps and hops of the bed. In turning to the woman, she learns that Lena’s immaculate hair is not immune to being ruffled. A few tangled strands escape even as she settles her protection goggles above her head.

“What’s so good about _your_ morning?” 

“I finally figured out why the suit wasn’t responding to voice tech. They’ll be ready in the week. Both of them.”

Kara has a theory. She probably doesn’t need Lena to explain it to her, but if science is the only way to get Lena to talk to Kara like she’s not entirely untouchable, she’ll take it.

“What’s the bug then?”

“It’s just a string of code I didn’t spot.”

Kara nods, not sure what else she can mine from that brief response.

“You didn’t go home?”

Lena shrugs, a much less terrifying response than simply pretending she’s invested in the conversation. Maybe the Luthor that puts Kara in her place and keeps her on her toes only ever needed time to adjust. Perhaps today is the day they can somehow let loose around each other.

Except in an infuriating repeat performance, Lena opens her mouth, closes it, and opens it again only to return to her supposedly finished work. She glances at Kara, and then at the assembled parts on her desk, and then even worse than she’s let on, she starts a path towards Kara, stops midway and retreats.

Kara can’t take it anymore. She spends the first jolt of being freshly recharged careening herself just inches from the woman, trapping her by the corner. She levels her gaze with Lena’s but she only avoids it. 

“Hey,” Kara says much softer than she intended. “What is it, Luthor?”

It’s only when Lena steps back as if to use the wall for support that she even acknowledges Kara’s question.

“It’s just,” Lena says, prompting Kara to set her jaw. There’s no point in beating around the bush when the bush is kind of on fire. “The reason you solar flare a lot is because you’ve been sort of...”

She takes a step to the side, away from Kara’s close surveillance.

“Well, you’re crap at fighting.”

“What?”

“The energy. You use it all up making random hits and maneuvers. It would honestly work if you aren’t up against speedsters and insanely strong aliens. Except you are. You need better ways to manage Kryptonian strength.”

“And you’re the authority on Kryptonian strength how?”

“I’m not,” Lena says, shrugging once again. “But, you’re still a humanoid. The same tension, the same limbs, the same functions.”

“Sure, but with a few thousand times the force and speed.”

“Which explains why you’ve had no real training.”

Without prompting Kara to follow, Lena walks to the stretch of multiple monitors docked on a bay. Winn used one of them to show them the surveillance footage he stole from Lord’s plant. Kara got her own copy and watched the clips of Lena coming to her rescue. She played it over and over again, still not quite able to believe how Lena won that battle.

The same woman now stands next to her, her fingers looking and _feeling_ too soft to have delivered the same kills. Kara watches her turn on one of the monitors, the one she hooked up to a drone to keep up with Kara’s fights. She turns on the hyper slow motion mode, a tech upgrade that the Luthor kept the public ignorant about to protect aliens from being identified. Which, again is a dissonance Kara doesn’t find easy to come to terms with. It doesn’t help that it’s an actual marvel, nearly at par with the Kryptonian’s natural slow motion sight.

Over Lena’s shoulder, she watches it stretch 1445 frames into 3.426 x 10-12 frames per second. The fight still looks like a three-minute hurricane of blue and red. Nobody would be able to tell that inside the eye of that storm were thousands of hits that could explain Kara’s solar flaring. But at least with Lena’s tech, the playbacks can be paused and moved from one frame to another with a tap on the right arrow key, each one revealing clear progressions of movement.

“See, there,” says Lena. “That was your cue to incapacitate-what was his name? Wally? If you knew that, each of your fights this week could’ve been finished in under five seconds.”

Somewhere in the middle of their third playback, Kara knows she’s lost the argument. Lena isn’t even smug about knowing something Kara doesn’t, or annoyed by her incompetence. She’s merely being clinical. Kara’s form _is_ a disgrace. Her hits landed more out of luck than of skill. CADMUS could be prepping the biggest contender yet, and she doesn’t even know how to land a punch without solar flaring.

“In my defence, Wally Something is one slippery critter.”

“Give it a month’s training and slippery won’t mean a thing to you.”

“If I’m lucky, I’ll dissolve only one building per session,” says Kara, who, not bothering to control the inhuman weight of her sigh, sends some papers flying. “There’s never been a place, or any person to train with, Lena.”

Kara must’ve said something—inspiring? No. Inevitable? Maybe. Lena’s practically vibrating. Kara wonders how long she’s been holding out on her.

“Are you fully charged?”

Without waiting for an answer, Lena turns. “Follow me.”

* * *

They walk into a dimly lit room, so incredibly vast, it takes Kara a while before she can hear any current of air hit the wall. It would be a shame to fill a room this huge with nothing but air. On the wall next to the door they entered is a set of levers, each one bigger than Lena’s head. Without looking, the woman pulls up the one nearest to her. Kara hears the lights flicker before they turn on, flooding the space with light.

It’s wider than she thought. Also not as empty as she thought. There are bars, freestanding dummies, a wing chun recoil, a few weightlifting sets and mechanical gear she’s never quite seen before. Nearly the entire floor is smothered by thick rubber. Although Lena did manage to get them both out of a death sentence, it still surprises Kara that there’s as much training involved as this room suggests.

“Sorry it’s a little untidy,” says Lena as if it’s her childhood bedroom she’s showing Kara, and not a multi-million dollar worth of space.

“Yeah your weight sacks aren’t perfectly aligned. There’s dust on the bar grips. You should consider doing more cleaning, Luthor.”

Her peripheral vision doesn’t allow her to see if she earned Lena’s smile. What she does see is a hand moving onto the next lever. When Lena pulls, the room flashes in bright red light several times before fading into a pinkish tint. Almost immediately, her body feels heavier on the mat. Something must’ve left her.

She expects the kind of loss that carves a hole in the gut, a kind that drains and weakens. But right now, it is most definitely not that. Kara lets herself be drawn to the center of the room by that discovery, walking with the loss that does not take.

She wants to float, but she doesn’t. In fact, she can’t. Before it could announce itself, another layer of warmth glides on her arm.

“Do you feel this?”

Lena asks, her hand gently taking Kara’s. Clinical. She’s being clinical like she was earlier. Somehow that’s worse than the insufferable Luthor she met at the bar, and the shy Luthor who would rather choke in silence than insult Kara.

There shouldn’t be anything strange about this. She practically agreed to being her partner, and that means parts of her under Lena’s figurative and literal microscope. What’s unsettling is that despite all the stink eye Kara reserves for Lena, the woman holds her gaze not unkindly. For all Lena’s talk about the race against time to save the world, she’s not in any way impatient.

“Yes?”

In response, the Luthor uses her other hand to apply a different kind of pressure. She pinches slightly. Kara’s skin skin contorts under the effort.

“Is this ok?”

She nods. The pressure gradually increases until Kara winces, still not used to the slightest physical pain. Kara would’ve been laughing by now, but Lena, she brushes her thumb on the site of pain as if rubbing ointment on it. Kara almost pulls the lever to get her powers back. It’s not because her vulnerability is unsettling, but because she feels an inappropriate urge to read Lena through her heart beats.

“Ok, I get the point,” Kara says, reclaiming her hand and her composure. “This is some sort of red sun room.”

“I guess your brain doesn’t need powers to stay sharp. That’s one worry out of the way.”

It was an attempt at humour, the kind offered to fish pulled out of water. It almost, almost merits a quip or a laugh even. Except she only manages to slightly open her mouth. Lena mistakes her dysfunction for boredom and Kara takes it for the out that it is.

“Right,” Lena says. “So, when you fight, it’s kind of like doing groceries.”

“Uh huh. Are you trying to be cute?”

It was not so much a shot at flirting as it was a test. Lena’s eyes go wide in mild exasperation in place of saying _is it working?_ At least that’s what Kara bets the Luthor would say if she never found out about her Kryptoninan identity. They didn’t need to be friends, but it feels a lot like she’s faced with a proxy. Like the woman conjured a dummy Luthor to deal with the Kryptonian, and Kara Danvers is merely a myth she can’t be bothered with.

She’s beginning to think the novelty will never run off, and Lena would only ever see her as marvel of science, an asset, a Super, not an equal deserving of a healthy battle of the wits. Kara speculates she’s probably just too lonely to be comfortable with that.

“I’m being practical,” Lena says. “In groceries, you should never go to one aisle to get one item, proceed to other aisles for other items, only to go back to get another item. You do things at once. You never push your cart for the mere sake of getting somewhere.”

Lena takes off her coat, hangs it by the lever.

“I see what you’re getting at. But are we really doing this?”

“Yes,” says Lena who takes off her shoes before stepping into the matt. “Because eventually you’ll be fighting someone or something faster and stronger than you.”

“Don’t tell me the only thing standing between me and my grave would be grocery shopping skills.”

“Except it is.”

At least Lena is still being ridiculous in her own way. Maybe she hasn’t left Kara on some pedestal after all.

“Noted,” Kara says. Lena makes her way to the center of the matt. Kara finally shrugs off her own jacket and follows into an unknown fate. She has never sparred with anyone before. She was always afraid of hurting Alex whenever she offered to teach her. “What are the rules?”

“Don’t hit vital joints hard. We can’t afford you getting injured in case something comes up.”

“You’re not worried about you?”

Lena only smiles. At any other given time, Kara would’ve been offended but Lena is once again being impossible. Maybe the Lena she met only ever needed time.

They ease into it slowly, with Kara still getting used to being able to hit with unbridled force. She keeps worrying the red sun lamps will go off. As if reading her mind, Lena pauses them in place.

“Don’t worry those run on battery, and there are back up mechanisms in case of power failures.”

“Oh,” says Kara. “Well, in that case…”

Several beats of silence go unaddressed until they smile at each other. Kara makes the first moves tentatively. In a vague turn of events, Kara’s earnest attempts at matching Lena go unrequited. She’s getting increasingly frustrated that Lena may be the one pulling the punches.

“Going easy on me, Luthor?”

“Not really,” says Lena, like she’s indulging a child. “I was taking notes.”

“Oh?”

“Always two birds with one stone, Kara.”

“Okay, that’s a far better analogy than grocery shopping.”

“Enough of analogies.”

And that was all the warning Kara needed. Lena throws a punch which she easily dodges. Regretfully, Kara realizes too late that she should’ve just blocked instead of dodging. A knee lands on her gut before she can even regain her stance. The punch was not meant to hit but to send her straight into her trap. It’s only with the knowledge that Kara evades more than she blocks. Lena really _was_ taking notes.

The next assaults proceed in pretty much the same succession, each one getting less and less predictable. It’s as if a thousand take downs, and strategies are imprinted in every single one of her moves. Really, Kara should’ve known that Lena is the type to plant counter hits inside of her counter hits.

The only thing the Kryptonian can do to hold her own is to keep waiting. In perhaps a moment of complacency, Kara sees it: An opening enough to trap Lena’s limbs. Despite her entire life spent in defiance of it, she trusts gravity to run them both to the ground.

“You’re worse than I thought.” Lena says as her back hits the mat. Kara slightly worries she might have broken something.

“What do you mean? I’m literally on top of you.”

Not used to breaking a sweat, her proximity with a sweaty Luthor makes her all too aware of the places where their damp skin meet. She’ll definitely need to drive to the outskirts for a shower after this.

“Kara, it’s exactly what I wanted you to do.”

“What,” Kara says, suddenly thinking that what she needs more specifically, is a very, very cold shower. “What do you mean?”

“Your calf is locked in the exact way I predicted it would be. I wasn’t just going easy on you. I was watching. And now your thigh is between me just like I thought it would be. Your right arm is pinning me down while the other is holding my arm in place. Nobody has taught you yet how bad of an idea that is.” Lena speaks with the tone of someone giving a candle making workshop. It drives Kara a little bit mad. She reinforces her hold as if that would prove Lena wrong, but it only makes the woman smile.

“Kara, you slotted yourself in the exact positions and angles I need to do this.”

In one swift gambit Lena sets Kara’s detriment in motion. She uses the arm Kara was so sure she locked in place to maneuver them, leaving an open breadth to flip them and at the same time pull Kara’s leg into a trap. The resulting pretzel is interesting, if not a little painful.

She wouldn’t be able to do those locks if Kara didn’t take Lena down by her design. She realizes with horror how, if she were to use her full human force now, she would only hurt and embarrass herself.

“What the hell was that?”

“Two birds. One stone.”

“Ok, uh how do I like, tap out? Uhm let go of me? Please?”

Lena laughs, their closeness letting Kara feel the tremble of the woman’s throat and her chest on her thighs. Taking _some_ mercy, Lena loosens the hold up. Kara doesn’t miss a beat and wriggles herself free.

“Where did you even learn that? More like, why?”

“I had to,” says Lena, who stands and offers her hand. Kara takes it along with the answer that she will no doubt keep thinking about.

“I guess there’s still too much you haven’t been letting me in on.”

“You’ll need to train with me every morning if you’re to keep up with National City _and_ CADMUS.”

Kara can’t tell if that was the Luthor ignoring her statement or if that was her responding to it. It made Kara even more curious about her earlier remark. _I had to_.

“Fine,” she says in place of asking more questions. It’s not just Lena who knows how to show mercy. “But no more holding out on me, Luthor.”

Kara guns for the door, but not without marking her demand with a last look.

“Kara, wait.”

“What?”

“The shower is over there.”

Kara blinks, more dumb than she is gross.

“Don’t worry. I tested it for kryptonite and toxins.”

“Oh. Right. I forgot billionaires have shower rooms everywhere.”

There is at least that—getting free showers out of embarrassing mornings on the mat. After all, that’s hitting two birds with one stone.

* * *

Thank you for reading! Click to yell at me or say hi: _**[Twitter](https://twitter.com/ChaoticVirgo2)**_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a blast writing this so far, but I might have to update every 10 days instead of just week. I've got the future chapters drafted out but I have school and work so content will come out slower. Comments might make me work faster ofc lol. Thank you again for giving this fic your time. The world is in disarray, and on top of that, the SG writers have been quite mean lately. I hope you find some comfort in this! :)


	8. Answers and Wagers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello! As promised, I'm back with these idiots. Here's their first training together, their first game plan, and their first adventure. (All gone wrong of course. Have I mentioned they're idiots?)

If the first bout of sparring rendered Kara a fish out of water, the first morning of their training tossed her into a pan, the fizzling oil frying her alive. No, Lena didn’t hurt her. In fact, her hits were calculated and far too gentle.

Somehow that made Kara furious, the heat stalling her progress. How dare Luthor be gentle with her. The last time anyone had treated her as anything less than invincible, she was in Krypton. Her sister didn’t even get to know this side of her. In acting on her base instincts, Kara unquestionably shows Luthor an honest side of herself, and all the woman seems to pick up from it is how fragile Kara Zore-el is. To make things worse, it’s not even a humiliation she can whine about.

After their warm up sparring, Lena set her to nearly an hour of drills. She didn’t see the point of them until the rote muscle memory helped her block Lena more easily in their second round. Though she suspects, had this been a real fight, there would be no stopping the Luthor.

* * *

**A week later...**

“So when will you stop pulling the punches on me?”

Kara walks into Lena’s main terminal bay, still riled up from being treated like an orphaned newborn chick. It’s the _seventh_ morning of their training for Rao’s sake. To be fair, she _has_ fallen far from her nest.

“When you can handle me,” says Lena, whose hair hangs loose, not quite the degree of dryness she usually blows it to. She had called dibs on the shower by conveniently forgetting to turn off the red sun lamp and running to the only shower stall in the facility. Kara regrets bothering to even race her and discovering that for a short human, Luthor is pretty damn quick.

“Them, I mean. When you can handle my punches.”

If Luthor were flustered by her own slip up, Kara couldn’t know. She has buried her face out of view, intent on scooping something from one of the large crates she had yet to unpack.

“That has got to be the most frustrating thing for a Kryptonian to hear,” Kara says, bending forward to tip her wet hair until it veils her entire face. She rubs it vigorously with a towel. When she resurfaces, she catches Lena’s gaze following the trajectory of the water droplets.

“What? Never seen anyone dry their hair this way?”

“I had a cross breed of a labrador and a retriever once.”

Instead of a comeback, Kara feels a dopey smile employing her facial muscles. She finds the idea of herself as a dog quite pleasant. Now wouldn’t that solve everything?

“I thought you’re a cat person?”

Luthor raises her head from the crate to peer at Kara curiously, not unlike a cat, Kara thinks. Then Luthor dives back in, probably to hide a smile. _Again_ , with the hiding. What would she even gain from hiding her gladness? Why is Kara so pressed about it?

“I guess you’ve gotten somewhere with your research after all,” she hears Lena say.

Kara zips away in search of a mop and returns instead with a rag. She wonders how Lena keeps such a huge place clean, and then remembers almost immediately the nanobots she could sometimes hear pattering away. She’s half tempted to ask Lena to show her the “nanny bots” at work. That would for sure earn her a glare. But the woman seems intent on her search. Kara would have to jump inside the crate to get her full attention.

When Kara walked in after her shower, she had expected the woman to be halfway through a document. She did say they’d finally be discussing their game plan this morning before another disturbance can drag The Blur out of their cave. Luthor had been using the attacks to hijack on CADMUS information. She said it wouldn’t be wise to proceed with their extraction without any leads, and this morning was supposedly the one that would change that. None of the computers, though, had been booted up.

She refrains from using her super speed to wipe the little puddles she made on the floor. In between fighting outside and helping out in the lab, she discovered that the best way to get on Luthor’s nerves had been to be hover in her periphery and fail at something over and over again until she hears Lena marching towards her. Without looking at Kara, she would correct her mistake no matter how deliberate it seems just so she can return to her own work in peace.

_Was it cruel?_

_Yes._

_But was it unkind?_

_Debatable._

Besides being the work of a scorned child, it was all Kara could do to keep her sanity. The discovery that the Luthor never takes a break, working alternately between her computers and her various lab tools, is unsettling at best. She could feel the Luthor keeping secrets from her, could feel the panic driving the woman to bury herself in work instead of telling Kara about it. When Kara does manage to extract her from work, she could sometimes whisk her to the loft office and they would take on a semblance of a normal working relationship.

Sometimes, Luthor would comment on news in the science world and lose herself in a ten-minute monologue on history. Other times, she would let Kara in on the research progress implying that they’re close to finally having a strategy to go about this damn project. Either way, it ended the same way, with Lena realising what she’s doing and hurrying back to work. But it was better than nothing.

This morning though, as Kara places herself in Luthor’s periphery, deliberately making sloppy work of wiping the puddles, the woman doesn’t seem at all to notice her. Instead, she hears Luthor’s heartbeat spike up from something other than the usual annoyance.

“Aha!” A look of triumph alights her face in a way Kara has never seen before.

She holds—no, cradles a block of wood to her chest, like a child finding her long lost toy. When unfolded on the otherwise empty work desk, its tiny mechanisms reveal itself to be a chess board with intricate, glinting game pieces. She wouldn’t be surprised if they’re made of actual gold and Calcatta freakin marble. Maybe the Luthor has found her long lost toy after all.

“It’s my favourite set,” Lena says, not offering any more than that.

“Not to interrupt your nostalgia trip but aren’t we supposed to discuss the plan?”

“We are,” Lena says, gesturing to the chess board. _Who’s the excited puppy now?_

“Let me see. This is Abidjan, Lima, Auckland, Kaznia, Guangzhou, New Delhi, and National City.”

For each mention of a city, Lena has placed a piece, no doubt representing the stolen transmitters. Once they’re all placed on the board, the woman crosses her arms, raises her hand for her chin to rest on. Kara has like, so many questions, but something about the way Luthor taps her lips with her thumb in contemplation keeps Kara from daring to interrupt. Lena rearranges the pieces a few times until they’re nearly evenly spread out on the board with seemingly no order.

Kara knows she’s finally content. Keeping her own gaze on the board, she can feel Lena staring at her in anticipation. No, not quite the way she feared. Not like she’s a fascinating bacteria on a petri dish. But almost like she’s a friend about to be in on a secret. It would be so easy to poke fun at the Luthor’s theatrics if not for how heavy the expectation rests between them. But also, well, for how nefarious the set of gold and marble monarchy looks. And then suddenly, while the faces of the little figures stare at each other, it clicks. Lena is even bigger of a geek than her Etsy cart suggests if she had to use a chess board for this.

“You think they’re casting a net of energy,” Kara says.

Lena’s gums peek out of her cursed smile. It wasn’t particularly worrying, but Kara is afraid she would have to lay a hand on each of the woman’s shoulders for her to calm the fuck down.

“I _know_ they’re casting a net of energy.” Lena ignores what must be a puzzled look on Kara’s face by turning to the chess pieces. She moves the gold knight piece to its box and suddenly the entire arrangement no longer looks random. “Checkmate,” Lena says.

Somehow unsurprisingly, the white marble king tips over. It neither bounces nor rolls away. The fall is blunted abruptly as if being snapped into place by a strong magnet. The little retro bulb erect beside the board’s embedded clock blinks in red, perhaps to indicate that it is verifying the checkmate. _So that’s what the bulb is for._ The light in question turns green, and suddenly, the rest of the white marble pieces drop to the same still fate of their king. Kara stares at the fallen, their unseeing eyes facing the ceiling.

“You made this, didn’t you?”

Lena just smiles, slightly angling her face away from view. The woman has, quite possibly, the ability to preen.

“Or was it a gift?”

“First guess is right,” Lena says. “Thought it would impress him. I was going to give it to my bro- to Lex for his thirty second birthday.”

“But you didn’t.”

“But I didn’t.”

For a while they just stare at each other, Luthor’s smile doused like a helpless campfire. There’s as much chance of her talking about her brother as there is of Kara asking about him. Without prompt, Luthor instead offers an explanation for the other question at hand—why keep this tech a secret? The woman kept the slow motion surveillance upgrade a secret to protect aliens. She kept the perfect concealment device away from the military, too. Is there anything not up to Lena Luthor’s protection?

“There’s a lot of ways quantum physics can be used for world domination. So no, this never went to the market. Not even the hospitals. Unless energy is free, hospitals will remain dependent on corporations and the government. If even they can’t be trusted with the tech, handing something like this to Lex would be apocalyptic.”

Kara nods, once again feeling the weight of their project. It really is a game changer, monstrous in scale.

“Luthor, were the chess pieces quantum entangled?”

“Something like that.”

Kara stepped closer to the board, closer to Luthor. When she gingerly pries the fallen king from the set, she’s surprised to meet no resistance. Not magnets then. When she looks back at the board, the rest of the marble pieces have stood upright, as if they’ve never fallen. Definitely not magnets. The king stares at her as if to confirm.

“How much NDAs did you make the sculptor sign?” Kara meant it as a joke, because there’s no way Lena could’ve enlisted someone indiscreet for a project so volatile.

“I’m the sculptor.”

Kara stares. First, at Lena and then at the king’s patrician features. It looks more like a product of magic than of actual carving. She meets Lena’s eyes again and runs her gaze down the woman’s arms all the way to the tips of the fingers resting on the table. She imagines them holding a chisel to chip away at a block of expensive marble until it resembles the body of a monarch. Magic. All for a brother who didn’t deserve it.

“You must have really loved Lex then.”

Lena shifts uncomfortably. “Not enough to actually give it to him,” she jests. But the excitement has been purged from her body. Kara immediately regrets having said that—having said _anything_ out loud.

“I didn’t- I only meant it as the obvious conclusion. Nothing else.”

“Of course,” says Lena. There is nothing _of course_ about her stance.

“So… you think the transmitters are quantum entangled then?”

“I’m sure projects HAARP and CADMUS both had quantum entanglement in their agenda, but it’s not likely they ever completed it. The transmitters are too volatile. If they were able to achieve that, they would have succeeded with whatever it is they want to happen by now.”

“So why haven’t they?”

“They don’t have me.”

“Luthor,” Kara says reflexively, as if Lena just yelled in the library. Kara realises, not without dread, that it’s more of a response to the ice taking over her spine. “Do they know that? If they know, they’d kidnap you. Do you even have… security?”

Luthor frowns. The woman is rarely confused, or she’s good at hiding it. This is not her best moment. Kara couldn’t blame her. Heck, even _she_ ’s confused. Lena opens her mouth and Kara wouldn’t be surprised if Lena asks her for a Powerpoint presentation. But then the loose ends of something seem to find her, turning her question into a gasp until she nods to herself.

“Don’t worry,” Lena says, harbouring a placating smile. “Not even torture can make me cooperate with them.”

Luthor has uncharacteristically missed her mark. She has mistaken the object of Kara’s alarm. Has Kara failed so badly at kindness that concern for a colleague’s welfare didn’t even cross Lena’s mind?

“Lena…”

Or worse yet, this probably isn’t about her. Maybe Luthor isn’t used to being worried about.

“That’s not what I meant,” Kara says—no, begs. She hopes Lena won’t ask her to elaborate.

“Oh.”

“I mean, what kind of partner would I be if I let you get kidnapped, right? That would be unsettling. Naturally.” She throws in a chuckle for good measure but it only made her sound like a walrus digesting bad fish.

“I see,” Luthor says. Kara wonders if she does see, and why it would even matter.

“So uhh,” Kara says, putting her hands in her pockets only to find that there are none. There’s a special place in hell for clothing lines that design women’s apparel without pockets. “Just how much can they do with incomplete quantum entanglement? The way I see it, they’ve already casted the net. Each transmitter can simultaneously reinforce the borders connecting them and regulating one would be regulating the entire gridlock. Kind of like a centralised AC.”

“Not quite like that, but yes, it's still enough to make a gridlock. We just don’t know what they want to activate on a global scale.”

“Nothing good, obvs.”

Lena doesn’t nod in affirmation. She is looking in Kara’s direction, but she doesn’t seem to see her. The gears in that mind of hers are no doubt working double time. Kara steps into her space before she can think better of it.

“Hello? Care to share?”

When Lena finally looks at Kara and not just through her, she has the audacity to look confused.

“Hmm?” Lena doesn’t quite flinch from Kara’s intrusion.

God they are so close.

“Did you just play chess inside your head?”

“Oh,” says Lena. “Right, sorry.”

Kara steps back, and floats on top of the ridge separating the terminal from the rest of the lab. Luthor watches her teeter and settle on straddling the temporary barricade, probably worried the Kryptonian would break it. But they both know she’s half floating.

“I was thinking about the corporations. CADMUS lost support from the government. They’d need concrete funding, protection, and of course locations to pin for their net of energy. It makes incredibly good sense to infiltrate and take over the corporations.”

“When it was under your mo- Lillian’s administration, they experimented on aliens to harness their powers for the military, right?”

It takes a while but Lena eventually nods. “Yes, they did. They were still commissioned by the government back then.”

Kara waited for her to say more, gathering how this is not exactly an easy topic for the one Lillian left behind. When she doesn’t say any more, Kara takes mercy and assumes the reins of their meeting.

“The corporations in your list don’t just represent the pins to make the gridlock. There could’ve been many other combinations for that to still happen. But the seven bearers of the transmitters don’t just represent the seven continents for the net. They consist of the top monopolies in top global industries: weaponry, manufacturing, insurance, technology, media, aviation, and healthcare.”

Lena smiles, looking relieved that Kara really has given her project, _their_ project serious thoughts.

“Yes, Luthor. I made the connections.” She shoots her a cheeky smile, if only to make the lead up to what they’re up against less menacing. “They aren’t just planning to win wars. Wars require strategy, annexing, paperwork, eventually new laws. That’s what creating CADMUS soldiers was for. But it seems that they’re up to something more… viral.”

Before continuing, Kara waits for Luthor’s rebuttal to any of her accounts. It doesn’t come.

“With something like that,” Kara continues. “They could either be doing the world a favour or have come up with a new way to take over the world. I know taking over and possibly dismantling corporations from the inside out is practically a socialist’s wet dream, but we both know that’s not what CADMUS is doing. It doesn’t matter if they’re under new management, CADMUS will always be a disease.”

Luthor seems to regain her bearings. She walks to where Kara is, rests her back on the ledge, and crosses her arms. Kara then, is facing her, still straddling the ledge, still wasting energy on floating. They’re three feet apart, still not close enough but Kara can almost hear her thinking. Of course she’s had these thoughts. Kara’s just said them out loud so that Lena won’t be alone with them.

“I thought about that too,” says Lena.

“About what exactly? I kind of said a lot.”

“Anarchy.”

Kara sighs. She has been trying not to reach this conclusion. It’s predictable but infuriatingly inevitable. More than half of M’gann’s bar regulars would say the same from experience. Is destruction really the destiny of every planet? Of every home? Is that the only way they could, if they’re lucky, be part of the stars?

“Hey,” Kara says, letting herself place a hand on Lena’s shoulder. It would probably take more effort to deprive herself of such movement.

“I know you put off planning not because I was busy getting beaten up by random meta humans for hire,” she says.

Luthor looks at the hand nestled on her shoulder. There it is again—The look of surprise reserved for any manner of concern directed her way. Kara doesn’t know then for whose sake it is when she withdraws her hand.

“It's okay if it’s because you don’t have anything new for me,” Kara continues. “Sucks balls, really. But shouldn’t it be enough to know for now where the transmitters are located and how we can retrieve them? Haven't you been making dummy transmitters? I can help you now that I’m not solar flaring every three days.”

“But,” Lena says, almost pleadingly. “Kara, if we know what they’re up to, we’ll be prepared. We’ll know in which way to disable the transmitters for safekeeping or how we can modify it in such a way that it can never be misused. You know that once we have all of them, it will have to be the most heavily guarded object in the multiverse. Everyone will want to have access to it, to study it. To reproduce it.”

Kara doesn’t interrupt her. She has listened, keen on hearing what Luthor is really saying. She wants to collect the transmitters. Simple enough. But Lena is afraid of what having them actually entails. Having them would mean having more power than having nukes, more power than the president of any nation state has. It’s supposedly every Luthor’s fantasy.

She still cannot trust the Luthor with her life, but the only thing she’s completely sure of is that she is afraid. Lena is terrified of power the way her family never was. 

“Luthor,” Kara says. “Did something happen?”

The woman looks at her, a mask settling in place.

“You were kind of over the moon about me being in on this whole thing, but now you—

“It’s nothing,” Lena says. “I’m just tired, I guess. In between handling resistance from my own board, and failing the first tests of the transmitter replica, I can’t hack into CADMUS. That’s something I’ve never failed at.”

There might be some truth to this, but Kara is pretty damn sure Lena is hiding something. Something must’ve happened. It sets her teeth on edge in a way she’d never let the Luthor see.

“I don’t even know if it’s still CADMUS I’m hacking,” Lena says, laughing. “I keep running into loose ends of something bigger than I anticipated. Maybe if I have something better than my processors, I can work something out.”

Kara briefly thinks about the Fortress of Solitude. Could the processors work for them? Would a Luthor stepping in the fortress tear it apart? Maybe it’s finally time to drop another shitload of questions on Kalex.

Trapped in her own musings, Kara doesn't realise she’s zipped out of the lab, out of the tunnels and into her van. When she’s nothing but a bundle of nerves, she sometimes needs to nibble on something. Not that she’s nervous. She has the nerves. There’s a difference.

_Where are these damn nerves coming from?_

Kara doesn’t find much in her little fridge. Regardless, she’s thankful for inhaling some air that’s not practically cave breath. That must be it. Too much pressurised air might have been setting her on edge. She tells herself she’s already feeling better here. Outside. She can hardly feel bad about walking out mid-conversation. It’s not like she wouldn’t be back as if she never left at all anyway. 

True enough, when she returns to the lab, barely two minutes have passed. Lena hasn’t moved, except to drop her hand on her forehead.

“You’re right,” Lena says, without lifting her head. She probably felt the wind from Kara’s return.

“About what?”

“About focusing on getting the transmitters. It would be foolish to go in unarmed, but it would be even more dangerous to wait until we’re ready.”

Kara opens her bag of chips with her teeth. The sound, more than Kara’s lack of response, causes Luthor to lift her head.

“Ok, Luthor. So… just to recap, our plan is basically to take each of the transmitters so that CADMUS won’t use it for their nefarious plan.”

“I’d argue it’s not that simple, but yes, that’s exactly what we’re doing. We- Kara, please don’t eat at my terminal.”

“Scared I’ll smear your precious floor?”

“No, I’ll just feel bad about sending the nanobots to fight the ants again.”

“Fight? Ants? Nanobots?” Kara stares, her eyes widening with each question.

Lena looks so distraught that for a second, Kara feels guilty about the crumbs she dropped and forgot to clean the other day. Until of course, it comes. Lena erupts in her laughter. The one that Kara never realises she misses until she hears it. “I’m kidding,” Lena says. 

“You...”

“Your face,” says Lena in between laughs. It’s the first time she’s done this in over a week. Kara is under no illusion that Lena is at peace with whatever she’s keeping from Kara, but in this moment, Lena is genuinely amused. If Kara’s being honest, she doesn’t mind one bit that it’s at her expense.

“Oh, Danvers. You’re entirely too precious.”

“Oh fuck off.”

Yeah, they’ll be alright.

* * *

Kara’s pride sits and ferments in her kryptonian stomach. She had swallowed it, not unceremoniously, in leaving Kal-el her voicemails. It didn’t count as asking for help if it’s a favour in exchange for saving his ass did it? It was Alex, after all, who insisted on orchestrating Superman’s appearance to divert the theories of a new kryptonian in National City. Since he obliged, the attacks have finally tapered off to at most one attack per week. It’s given Kara time for both training and helping the Luthor complete their atom suits, a name Lena does not enjoy (“For the last time, my tech is not a Palmer tech rip off.”).

Before dawn has even broken, Kara and Lena sit next to each other, waiting to see how well the third instalment in their charade would bear fruits on global news. Neither of them can be sure how many cups of coffee they’ve had. Kara has stayed up to monitor her tip to the media about a possible disturbance by dawn. They’d hope the odd hours involved would shake off the suspicions about this all being a ploy.

Superman, for his part, is fortunately an excellent actor. Watching the live feed makes Kara think about forfeiting Kal’s standing donut debt. With a stance so unlike that of his Clark Kent persona, he rises among a horde of press in a black uniform he had told the public was for special missions. It was a detail the Luthor insisted on to match the blurry image of Lena and Kara among the clouds.

Kara finds Lena’s mouth hanging slightly open. She probably didn’t expect the man of steel to actually deliver this well. That makes the two of them. They watch Superman apologise for coming without notice, and for barreling into the huge Welcome to National City sign. In that moment, the Luthor gives Kara a side glance as if she couldn’t decide between being impressed or dismayed.

“What? It’s enough to make global news. You know how National City worships itself.”

“And I take it you chose the sign because there would be no collateral damage?”

“Right,” says Kara, who absolutely considered people’s safety first before any desire to make the mayor cry. “Least collateral damage.”

A surveillance footage plays on the screen, showing viewers how exactly Kal-el managed to destroy the city’s precious monument. Superman did make that crash look very real as if something powerful catapulted him from another city.

_“There’s a human organization among us aimed at controlling aliens and humans alike. Maxwell Lord was right to warn you to be vigilant. I’m merely here to stop them from branching out to National City.”_

Distorting his face in all the right places, he looks desperate enough. Maybe Kal really should’ve been an actor.

In a single morning, they managed to send Mayor Kowalski, Maxwell Lord, and CADMUS into a panic, _and_ polarised opinion on alien amnesty. CADMUS especially would call back their dogs should any of this be traced back to them. This would buy Kara and Lena some time.

“Not bad,” says the Luthor. “Does that run in your family?”

“What, making speeches?”

“Being a good actor.”

“Apparently not that much if you can tell it was me who dropped the pieces of shrimp on your sacred lab floor.

“Kara, there’s literally just the two of us.”

“You could’ve considered it was Sam. Like, maybe when she dropped by she got hungry and ate shrimp and garlic from Bono’s with hot chilli sauce.”

“You being that specific did not really help your case.”

“Also, I’m allergic to shrimp, Kara.”

They turn to see Sam. Kara had heard her meandering by the entrance a few minutes back. The other kryptonian offered to extend her stay for another two weeks so she can help Kara and Lena with sparring. She can’t help but notice how Lena visibly relaxes at her arrival.

“Hey,” the Luthor greets.

Kara notices that Sam’s already geared up.

“Aren’t you going to warm up first?”

“I already did.”

“Right,” says Kara. “I forgot you freaks wake up at three am without snoozing.”

Sam laughs.

“Hey, I snooze,” she says, sidling up to Kara and bumping her shoulder with her metal clad arm.

“But you’re right about Lena on that one. She doesn’t hit snooze because she doesn’t need an alarm clock to wake up before dawn.”

“Oh, right I forgot circadian rhythm is a thing with humans.”

“No, Kara, it’s not a human thing. It’s just a Lena thing.”

Their subject doesn’t defend herself, eyeing the space between Kara and her best friend, or lack thereof. Lena could never care less about being made fun of, but something about the suspended moment seems to crack the woman’s wall of indifference. Kara finds herself inching a little bit away from her fellow kryptonian. It’s probably an impulse born from the lack of sleep, because it isn't her job to ensure Lena’s comfort. In her attempt to eject the rude musings, she caught herself wondering what else would qualify as a Lena thing.

 _Rao_ , she really, really needs to get some sleep.

* * *

“What are you _doing_?”

Kara nearly folds. Using her sheathed body, not that she’s sure which part exactly, she has blocked yet another laser that Sam shot at Lena.

“Teamwork?” says Kara.

“Kara, we talked about this. You can’t keep taking the hits.”

“But I thought this suit has- what was it you said? Unparalleled threshold?”

“Threshold by the obvious nature of the word, implies there’s a limit. Alien weapons won’t be as nice.”

“Will the two of you talk this much when, I don’t know, a horde of jacked androids attack you?”

Sam, tired as she is of Kara and Lena’s squawking, does not relent with her assault. She’s been wearing one of the early exo suits so that she wouldn’t have to use her powers. The woman must’ve had to suppress herself way more than Kara ever had to. If it weren’t for the fact that Sam genuinely seems to enjoy this, Kara would’ve felt sorry for her. Sam’s job is to basically attack the pair so that they’d learn how to fight in sync against a common enemy.

As Kara watches Lena rocket herself out of the way, she can’t help but think that Lena _is_ right. The enemies outside would be far more keen on putting them down, their weapons more fatal. To say that it’s crucial to fight in sync would be an understatement.

Kara’s roundhouse kicks, takedowns, and counter attacks leave much to be desired, but she has been proving herself a worthy partner. When not pitted against each other, she and Lena work like well oiled machines. Working in sync was not a problem until recently. For the past few days, they had started alternating the use of the red lamps. Since they’ve transitioned into training without the power dampeners, Kara has taken the liberty to use her invincibility at every turn. It’s as if her powers came with the weight of the world. The idea that she now shares that load with Lena has yet to become second nature.

Wanting to prove that she’s learned something, Kara puts her habit of putting herself between the bullet and its target in check. Lena can take care of herself. She made the suits they’re each wearing now after all. She better let the woman use it.

“Crabmeat?”

“Crabmeat,” Lena affirms.

For some inexplicable reason, they had agreed beforehand that that translates to “cover me”. Kara just knows her food coding works better than pig latin which Lena of course originally suggested. It's just for now anyway, they’ll have to move on to reading each other silently in the following weeks.

When Lena launches nanobot rockets after Sam, Kara takes the opposite route, zipping to Sam’s back. Unfortunately, their bickering has given Sam enough insight on how their coding works. She rolls out of Lena’s trajectory, and yanks Kara from the air. _Yep, Sam was definitely Luthor trained_. In trying to regain her balance, Sam hurls Kara back to Lena’s side.

Kara kind of panics and yells, “Croissant!” She’s not even sure if that's the right code, but if they’ve been getting any good at this game, it shouldn’t matter. Lena will get it. “Or something,” she mumbles in the last second.

When she descends, it turns out Lena does get it because her hands are already poised to give Kara a power boost. As her right foot finds purchase, her left hits something. She’s too keen on making good use of their momentum to check. She launches straight into Sam while the woman is still quite unbalanced.

Kara and Sam go down together, the friction from their suits no doubt destroying the rubber matt. It smelled like burnt rubber.

Kara easily rolls away from Sam, but instead of getting up, she lays on her back. She lifts her head and realises that Lena is down too. It must’ve been her face that she hit earlier. Luthor probably saw it coming when she activated her nanosuit helmet.

“Lena?”

Lena raises her hand to wave Kara off. For a while none of them move. They just lay on their backs, like seals basking in the afternoon sun. It's quiet if not for Lena labouring to catch her breath. When her rapid gasps fade into faint breaths, all three of them sit up.

“You meant potstickers, didn’t you?” Lena says.

“That’s what I said!”

“No, you said croissant.”

“No,” Kara says, determined. “I said potstickers.”

“You said croissant but I read it as potstickers anyway.”

They stare at each other, no doubt replaying it in their respective minds. It’s right then that Sam explodes. For someone with grace as her default, her laugh is impossibly ugly. Anyone else might mistake it for hyperventilating because apart from the occasional choking, Sam doesn’t make a sound. She just sort of flaps about.

“You big idiots,” Sam manages to say without choking.

In that moment, Kara comes to an understanding. She understands how Sam and Lena have become family. With Samantha Arias, it seems like nobody ever really stands a chance.

They were birthed or made or whatever Sam calls it on the same planet, yet they couldn’t be any more different. Kara wonders if she wouldn’t be as prickly as she is now, wouldn’t be as _changed_ by red kryptonite if she had the burden of questions instead of memories of Krypton. She blinks away the thoughts before anyone realises her mind went somewhere grim. Rao knows it’s far too early for that trip.

“But she really did say croissant,” Lena says. “Or have I finally lost my mind?”

Instead of retorting, Kara finds herself sharing a sheepish look with Sam and then with Lena. It doesn’t take long before all three of them are laughing, the odd mix of their distinct laughters registering as music in the large expanse.

**Lima, Peru**

The first transmitter wasn’t exactly hard to find. It was hidden in plain sight, like they do in most of the movies. There’s always something hidden in damn plain sight. Not that it isn’t brilliant. Lena agreed that in history, the effectiveness of the method wasn’t unheard of either.

But the fact that it was in public also meant that extracting it would be a pain in the ass. The transmitter was hidden, or rather in display right at the centre of the Tello Tech innovation museum. It was placed as the surviving relic of San Junipero, the most successful space exploration project of the decade. To their credit, even with the metallic shell made to resemble a part of space hydraulics, Tesla’s transmitters really do look like they belong to a spacecraft. 

It was smart, Lena had said. By declaring it a fragment of a heroic space mission, it became practically untouchable. Moving it involved a lot of red tape and public exposure. It sat on layers of security that went beyond the usual combination of arms and tech. There would’ve been a time for both Kara and Lena to appreciate the handiwork, if only it didn’t make their jobs harder.

On top of building the dummy transmitters to replace the actual ones, they had to hack into the systems, to get a blueprint of the parts encasing the transmitter. And then they had to replicate each one down to the smallest detail. Luthor was right to look for a Kryptonian. If she didn’t have Kara’s speed, heat vision, x-ray, freeze breath, and strength all in one person, she’d have to spend two lifetimes to accomplish half of her objectives. Even if Lena could live for three hundred more years, Kara’s not sure the earth even has that much time left.

The first dummy transmitter alone consumed the entirety of Luthor’s first month in National City and had driven her to hospital confinement. Kara knows as much. The process involved rigorous testing on copying quantum entanglement signatures. With Kara’s help now, the succeeding dummies (“Stop calling them dummies,” Lena said) would take at least ten days each to make. They decided to schedule their extraction around the completion of each dummy. Without these replacements, the corporations would notice their transmitters had gone and Kara and Lena would not be able to retrieve the rest of the transmitters. Each one they make should buy Kara and Lena at least three months before the mechanism wears down.

When Kara and Lena landed near the capital of Peru, they could not immediately enact the extraction. Through their satellite and their small monitors, they surveyed the CCTV footage of the Tello museum in one entire day cycle. They had to make sure their intel on the security routines match with the actual thing. They camped out in the Marcahuasi stones, away from any surveillance and digital footprint that might indicate they were ever in Peru.

That night, Kara took off her lead glasses feeling safe enough to let all sorts of moist bristly sounds wash over her. The immediate sounds were as loud as the city, but unlike the city, they didn’t signal any agenda. It’s just, well, it was all just the sounds of living.

Kara could hear only the heart beats of animals mostly smaller than them, the insects trying and failing to bite Kara, and the sound of Lena slathering her own skin with insect repellant. She could even hear the slight hum of the moon. It’s a little more distinguishable than it is in the city. She remembers turning to Lena to comment on it, but found herself deeply upset that it was a sound Lena could not hear, unless… Even as she hit the breaks, she arrived at the idea anyway. The idea being that she should fly to the moon to record its sound for Lena. It took a lot of imagination for Kara to bury that urge.

It wasn’t only that urge that was strange about being in the stone forest with Lena. There were the huge formations carved during pre-colonial times everywhere they looked. If nothing was absolutely wrong, Lena would’ve been on a ramble now, probably in tangents about Incan civilisation and she’d eventually reach a rant about colonisation. 

Instead, Lena was quiet. Instead, she focused on the work at hand even though the surveillance feeds they hijacked showed nothing but the walls or the occasional roving guard. Whatever she thought about the history of the stone forest, she kept them all to herself. 

Lena’s heartbeat was the only human one Kara could hear without straining her hearing, so it was more than a little weird when it didn’t come with her usual anecdotes and commentary on science and history. It didn't help that they shared only one tent. The only thing that helped the awkward silence is that they were rarely in it together, having to take turns keeping an eye on the surveillance. With Kara being an alien and all, Lena only had to take a shift once.

That one shift, of course, had to be the exact moment Kara’s mind decided to visit a nightmare. She had startled Luthor from her post when she snapped awake from the usual dream. Really, she should’ve known and not agreed to sleep at all. Kara wanted to dig herself to the Earth’s mantle.

“Kara? What— Did you hear something?”

When Kara felt tears hot on her cheeks, Lena was immediately at her side. “Hey, it’s okay,” she had said. Something about Lena’s tone told Kara that the woman knew damn well it’s not okay. What she meant was that it’s okay to be _seen_. The Luthor only hesitated for a second before rubbing circles against Kara’s back.

“It’s okay,” she had said over and over again. Kara needed her to stop, but it was better than being asked about the nightmare.

That was the most they had spoken. Except for Kara’s insistence that they fly all the way to Peru from National City instead of using Lena’s private jet, they hardly argued. Kara could tell Lena was nervous, on edge the entire time. This being the first extraction, it’s more than understandable. If they failed, they would have no transmitter at hand, and they would not have any chance at all with the rest.

And yet, here they are, now, back at the stone forest with the actual transmitter instead of the replica. It was slightly larger than Kara’s torso but carrying it isn’t a problem in the dark. They could’ve flown straight back home, but copying the quantum signatures to the dummy transmitter took longer than anticipated. By the time they finished, dawn had already broken. They needed to wait for night to fall again before they could fly all the way back to National City.

As it is, Lena is curled up in the tent while Kara assumes her turn to watch. Despite being far from sleepy, she nods off a few times before surrendering to deep sleep. It doesn’t seem at all like much time has passed when she jolts awake, not from a nightmare but from the hair rising on the back of her neck.

When she looks up, she finds the end of a spear pointed at her. No, it isn’t a Kryptonite blade. It isn’t Luthor turning on her at last. When she turns in search of the woman, she finds that she is kneeling not far from her, also at the end of another spear pointed by a woman. It is with confusion, not quite fear, that Kara discovers at least a dozen other people surrounding them. They’re not dressed like any of the Peruvian tribes Kara has researched. They were in bright garments with patterns that are not of this land. Yet they surround Kara and Lena, looking like they have every right to give them hell for even setting foot here.

She looks over at Lena who is trying her best to stay calm. She’s still wearing her nanosuit. _Why had Lena not just fought them off? How did her own Kryptonian ears not even hear them coming?_

With those thoughts, Kara stands slowly, eyeing the blade that follows her ascent.

“You think this blade cannot hurt you?”

Soft voice, more amused than anything. Thick accent. It isn’t any Peruvian accent Kara can help remembering. The person who has spoken clearly looks to be the leader of the group, one that Kara has yet to identify.

“I’m sorry if we intruded your… forest. Won’t take long for us to pack up. We’re uh, sorry for the trouble.”

The leader then smiles. Their smile is nothing if not indulgent, the kind you give to a petulant child.

“I don’t need your apologies,” They say, not even a hint of anger in their voice.

They gesture toward the group, and a man comes forward carrying something. Of course, they got the transmitter, but that isn’t the most troubling thing about this situation. The transmitter weighs more than three tons. Kara would know. No human should be able to carry it alone, but the man held it with one hand like it’s nothing. He sets it down easily by his leader’s feet, which Kara notes are encased with metallic shoes. The leader’s gaze has not left Kara. Their smile has faded into something unreadable.

“Answers, Kryptonian. Answers are what I need.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so... full disclosure, this fic will have the bed sharing trope somewhere like every other fic after my own heart. Sorry I didn't put it in the tags before but yeah. How do you think they'll get there from here?
> 
> Stay safe out there and I hope this fic makes you smile today.


	9. Welcome to the Nightvale

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kara and Lena are in deep shit. But like most deep shits, nothing is as it seems.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first part of this chapter is told from a third party’s POV.
> 
> For when it shifts to Lena's POV though, make sure you have a blanket or something to curl up into. Grab some tea or whatever. Light some candles. Idk.
> 
> Yes, the title is inspired by one of the strangest and most popular fictional podcasts of all time.
> 
> Haven't had time to edit! So sorry my work/school week has gotten tough. Thankfully I have drafts to pull from. When I get the time, I'll review this for typos and such.

It is the morning, the least bone grating part of every expedition. The expelling of stars should mean nothing more than the presence of a closer, more daring ball of fire. Yet it registers as an absence. The simple matter of fact pales next to the matter of one’s personal truth, as it often does. As it should, Ayo thinks. Something of a secret.

With an eternity spent in a pocket of time that does not spin when the planet does, the Nommoli people are not used to being on any ground that faces the sun. The resulting colors, reflections, and shadows jar at every turn. Ayo would never admit to their people that they spent the better part of dawn getting used to having a shadow in place of a tail.

Ayo is their _Nommos_ , the direct descendant of the First. They assume the role of Teacher of Teachers. Alone, they survived the largest of giants, the greatest of floods, and the whitest, most blinding of explosions. The absence of diamonds in the obnoxious sky should not terrify them.

And yet, and yet. Ayo fears. They squint past the sky, hoping the impossible relents to the more familiar darkness. More than the novelty of being followed by their shadow, the morning reminds the Nommoli of the home they once left behind. No matter. The stars are there.

The stars have spoken. The transmitter must be destroyed. They cloaked their webbed feet with their transportal shoes, shed their tails, and left their infinite plane for this expedition. It was simple. Take the transmitter and destroy it. Destroying one can destroy the rest of it plaguing the earth.

Ayo have brought their people as equals, not as an army. The stars did not foretell an altercation. And yet. And yet. They walked through the walls of Tello museum expecting to find the transmitter. Ayo, ever the romantic, chose the dawn even though it would hide the stars. More than an educational voyage, it was an opportunity to symbolically spite the leeches still squatting in Peru.

When they were still flesh humans, unturned by their _Nommos_ , these Nommolli were stolen from their mothers, forced into musty boats and then into labor. With unparalleled energy, the leeches were going to take even more than they already have and it is the very people they stole that will steal this fantasy from them. Had they ever concerned themselves with drawn out vendetta, this would hardly be enough. An expedition merely coincided with their personal interests, and for once, Ayo wanted to indulge them a modicum of poetic justice.

To say that arriving at nothing was anticlimactic, is an understatement. No matter. The pair that stole what was theirs to destroy must not have known that there are demi-spirits that can trace heat signatures. Ayo should be insulted. They have been thwarted by imbeciles. However, this unexpected detour means that the thieves are attempting to change a fate they were not meant to foresee. They must be well on their way if they slipped through the fingers of time agents. That alone warrants something like respect.

Unlike the Time Bureau and other agencies of its kind, the Nommoli do not concern themselves with fixing every single anachronism. Within a century, once is optimal, twice is pushing it, thrice is catastrophic. Ayo believes that an anachronism that slips through hegemonic fingers shall be left alone. Ayo _is_ a romantic. Their people do not always know that. The two idiots responsible for this wrinkle in time most certainly cannot know that.

“Do not even think about it, girl,” Ayo says. “This blade is made of promethium. It will slice through you without difficulty. I do not want to spill blood on the stones of my Incan friends.”

The Kryptonian has risen from the stone ground, raising her chin. It is a manner some of Ayo’s own people developed in their mortal lives. It is the habit of people who have survived being forced out of the homes they can never return to. It is hardly the same. But more than the man of steel, this Kryptonian who has been in hiding must understand what power can only amount to.

This is why, of all people, she is the last one they expected to be in their way. The one they’d least expect would cooperate with a basic leech. Ayo wonders if the shorter girl who has not spoken a word is in fact as basic as megalomaniacs come. The alien can do this without the leech, but it does not work the other way around. That can only mean that between them, if there is someone who has seen the future enough to enlist aid to alter it, it would not be the alien.

“Tell me, Kryptonian. Are you being held hostage by this leech?”

Golden hair hanging from a loose tie bounces as she looks from Ayo to the leech and back again.

“Did you just call Luthor a leech?”

Ayo laughs. It cannot be helped. It also cannot be a sign of anything good. The aspiring teachers who signed up for a field trip, not an altercation, eye each other with unease. The Kryptonian is not only working with a leech. She is working with a Luthor. The worst of the worst then. 

“Hmm. You are certain you do not have another blade on your skin besides mine? Does she have you under a spell then?”

It is the Kryptonian’s turn to laugh, it seems.

“The leeches call it mind control,” says Ayo.

“What? No.”

“You’ve taken the transmitter to destroy it then?”

At their mention of the transmitter, the alien’s gaze widens. It was an infinitesimal shift, imperceptible to anyone who is not Ayo. The girl draws breath.

“Who _are_ you?”

“A question for a question. Hmm. Do the people of Krypton also think that as enlightenment? Or did the leeches teach you that? I met Socrates by the way. He is what you people would call overrated.”

Ayo is not looking at the Luthor but they can see her cocking her head like a dog sensing their human’s return at the end of a long day. If she is brimming with curiosity, she still does not speak to sate it. The alien girl persists in her place.

“How _old_ are you?”

“I am the one asking questions, here, girl.”

“You’re not from around here.”

“You are right, and you are wrong. Like most things I am many things at once. I am from Kani-na.”

“West Africa.”

Ayo’s head snaps towards the owner of the voice. It was a whisper of wonder, not a question.

“Ah. The leech knows her geography. Of course. Did you interest yourself in our maps to mark what your ancestors have taken? Did you plot a course to take more?”

“Her _name_ is Lena, and I’m-” the Kryptonian sidesteps to hide the Luthor from Ayo’s view. They lower their spear as she balks. The alien seems to weigh the benefits of deception, and finds that there is none. “My name is Kara.”

For the first time, the leech allows herself to tremble. It is honestly a marvel that it took this long. Okoye is a huge muscled woman. With her spear on the girl’s neck, they expected the Luthor to lose her wits at first contact. 

Ayo nicks a proper glance at the girl still on her knees. What they find in their eyes is horrifying. The Luthor does not fear for her own neck where Okoye is pointing a blade. The Luthor fears for the Kryptonian. _Her_ Kryptonian. Kara must’ve felt it, compelling her to turn around, not seeming to care that she is leaving her back vulnerable. There is no admonishment on the Luthor’s face to meet her. Only a pleading for her Kryptonian to see reason.

There is a day for appreciating the way they look at each other. It is something Ayo, themself yearned for and lost. But this is not that day. The cauliflower they had for early breakfast churns in their stomach. They look around at their people and wonder if they see it, too. This is no spell or blackmail or mind control. This is a Kryptonian consorting with a leech.

There is an abundance of aliens and the rest of humankind yet this Kryptonian chooses to consort with an imperial descendant. A Luthor no less. Ayo should not have been surprised. Kara may be from Krypton, but on Earth, the body is everything. And this Kara carries the body of the Aryan race even more stereotypically than the Luthor does. Blonde hair, blue eyes, the “perfect” height. It is the tendency of such bodies to take what is not theirs. Kara will never understand what it truly means to be robbed. At least not enough to protect her own heart. The two leeches break their mutual gazes when Ayo speaks.

“I am Ayo, born of time you cannot comprehend. No, my people and I are not aliens. We are from here more than either of you are. Now that you have told me the names you were given at birth, Kara and Lena, tell me something else that is true. What exactly do you intend to do with this?”

“I don’t think I’m supposed to be saying this,” the one called Kara says. “There’s a lot to explain but basically we want to distribute free renewable energy for all.”

Ayo stares at the alien girl. She can tell at least most of this is the truth. That, in the end, is what makes them laugh.

“A noble intention,” they say. “Did you not know that that is how cities burned, or how Atlantis was buried?”

“Atlantis is real?”

Ayo ignores Kara. Lena appears to do the same. What an odd couple.

“People with good intentions act earnestly,” says Ayo. “But they do all that while lacking foresight. They cannot see the rot that grows from their heroics. They presume the world will be better for it, because they have not seen the future.”

“But I have,” says Lena.

The Luthor has finally spoken more than a whisper, perhaps exercising her vocal chords for the first time since waking. Though Ayo thinks that it is not the rasp that makes Kara shoot Lena a look, one that no longer bears the tenderness that passed between them. The Luthor must have kept this information from her. _How interesting_.

“I’ve had… a glimpse.” 

“A glimpse,” Ayo repeats.

They can sense Kara inching towards the transmitter. Ayo can play, but not here. The Incans have done quite a marvelous job here. This four thousand-meter stretch of granite marks a history predating the friendship between theirs and Ayo’s people. When they look up, a human head carved into a stone seems to agree.

“Who would give a Luthor such a glimpse?”

The Luthor whispers something in response. Even Ayo’s unnaturally sensitive ears could not pick it up. Before they can ask her to repeat herself, a gust of movement sets three things in motion. The first is Okoye’s descent to the ground. The second is the Luthor being catapulted to the sky by a blur, her curious shell kicking into rocket mode. They had wondered about that exoskeleton earlier. It gleams under the sunlight. Something of magnificence. The third thing is the Kryptonian rising, her motion finally slowing enough to be seen.

It should not freeze Ayo in awe. They had known she’s a Kryptonian with super speed and superstrength after all. No matter. The Nomolli have seen this coming. Their mentees look at them perhaps wondering when they will do something about it. However, Ayo is nothing if not a bit devious. They allow Kara and Lena to think they’ve escaped a little longer before opening the veil of time. The tearing impact sends the two figures rocketing back to the ground.

When the leeches land, it is on soft dirt, no longer the Incan stones Ayo was worried about desecrating. When they look up, it is no longer the morning hour. They can feel Ekon, Okoye, and Zane sighing in relief. It is, at last, the Always Hour, the night unmoving.

They take their time ambling towards the fallen. By the time they reach Kara and Lena, the two are scrambling to their feet, whirling around to find themselves nowhere they expected to be.

“Welcome to the Nightvale.”

Kara does not seem interested at all in what this place is called. Perhaps just that they are let _out._

“What do you want?”

“What I want does not matter,” says Ayo. “At least not concerning that.”

Kara follows their line of sight and tightens her hands on the transmitter.

“The stars have spoken to us. The transmitter must be destroyed.”

“The stars,” Kara echoes, her anger giving way to genuine curiosity. “Huh.”

Unlike Kara, Lena has the sense to look around in wonder. They are at the mouth of the Kiri cave, flanked by borders of oakwood forests. Nothing out of the ordinary. Except, it is the dark when a moment ago it was just the morning. It also cannot be helped that the hill they trekked down from is not the stone forests back in Machuasi. It is an orange lump of soil. The top crowned by a sophisticated structure no human in the mortal world has ever seen before. The Luthor opens her mouth and closes it only to open it again.

“What _is_ this place?”

“Luthor,” Kara hisses. “We’re not on a field trip.”

They watch Kara and Lena’s interaction. _Fascinating_.

“Indeed, you are not,” says Ayo. “But you are welcome to explore before leaving… If you leave the transmitter with us.”

This seems to sober The Luthor up. The moment Kara and Lena exchange glances, Ayo’s people stand at the ready. Before Kara can even fly away, Zane, the fastest Nommoli, is upon them. He is at least three times slower than the Kryptonian, but he takes them by surprise. He catches Kara by the ankle and reunites her with the dirt. Even as she lands rather clumsily, she manages to keep her grip on the transmitter.

The Luthor’s speed is not a match at all. Not even close. Zane gracefully dodges her assaults, but he freezes, realizing too late that he has walked right into a trap. A chain appears around his body, binding him. The Luthor is unreadable and equipped enough to wind Zane up. The others do not interfere. Not yet.

By the time Okoye takes his place to stop Lena, Kara crashes into the warrior. The rest of the Nommoli would step in any moment now. Ayo does nothing to command or still their people. One by one, they set themselves into motion until only Ayo is kept from the thick of the fight. Thus, begins a battle between the leeches and demi-spirits. This was not written in the stars. Not even Sara Lance’s and her no-nonsense wife have a grasp of this anachronism. But Ayo does not need any power of foresight to know how it will end—by their hand.

* * *

Lena supposes they could do worse. They _have_ been holding their own, working through their strange attackers with an efficiency that surprised them both. The question is, for how long?

None of the men and women were as strong or as quick as Kara, none as clever and as surefooted as Lena. These demi-spirits, however, are tireless. They burn and freeze and fall at each use of Kara’s powers, but they always seem to get back up. Twenty two unstoppable not-quite fighters are wearing them down. Ayo hasn’t even lifted a finger, perfectly content at just… sitting there.

Kara has not shown any signs of solar flaring. Not yet. Lena, unfortunately, is only human. _The_ only human in this plane of existence called The Nightvale. To be perfectly frank, fighting the horde is about as useful as retrieving a droplet of vodka in the sea. Even if they were to possess boundless energy, they don’t know the first thing about travelling through quantum space.

While smashing limbs, and setting trap after trap, Lena’s eyes dart around for clues. Taking on three assailants at a time, she guessed wildly at their location. Kara still has her powers. That means they have either transported to another planet with a yellow sun, or they’re still on earth. If that’s the case then there _is_ a chance to exit. She just needs one more sign that this is indeed still a plane on earth.

By the time she finds it, a rare flower that only grows in the exact same conditions of the Earth, a thick fist slams into her rib. The nanobots take most of the blow, but it was enough to floor her. Suddenly something-someone is straddling her torso. It’s the woman they call Okoye. It takes her a while to realize that the woman is repeatedly bludgeoning her helmet as if that would dismantle her suit. Lena would later marvel at the ability of her nanobots to withstand this. In the mean time it was this rapid assault that let her short circuit to the truth—she _does_ know the first thing about quantum travel.

“Kara,” she whispers.

Lena must’ve sounded hurt, because Kara, all lessons on practicality out the window or shall they call it “veil”, fights through the throng with indecipherable speed. Suddenly, the material of Okoye’s top fabric is used against her as she is flung away from Lena, and drilled into the ground. Lena catches a glimpse of her shocked eyes, probably didn’t see herself being given a taste of her own bludgeoning.

Lena is realizing then, the limits of her suit. The nanobots can only do so much. Her vision blurs a little. She can barely turn her head. Her doctor would be beyond pissed. Maybe she can tell him she fell down the stairs. Again. She laughs underestimating how much it would hurt to laugh. Her ears ring, teetering between much too muffled and much too loud. Perhaps finished with momentarily incapacitating their attackers, Kara lands beside her, transmitter still held fast in one hand.

“Lena.”

Lena commands her helmet to open it’s front. At the sight of her face, Kara’s face instantly falls.

“You look like shit, Luthor.”

“Kara, shut up and listen to me, please. I figured a way out of here. I can disturb the plane and leave it malleable enough for you to tear through it.”

“But… Isn’t that’s going to deplete your battery?”

“I know.”

Kara’s eyebrows only grow closer. She can hear the meta-humans (demi-spirits??) stirring from the craters Kara drilled them into.

“I’ll carry you then.”

Lena shakes her head before remembering it’s sore. Kara winces almost right when she does.

“If this works,” Lena breathes. “Take the transmitter. Not me. Take only the transmitter and you’ll be able to run at the speed of light. It’s the only way out.”

In Lena’s periphery, she can see at least half of their enemies rising, almost ready to attack again.

“Luthor, what are you talking about? You’re not heavy at all.”

“You have to travel as fast as the speed of light.”

“I’m not leaving you here.”

“The transmitter is the only thing you can carry. That’s the only way, and you know it.”

With all the remaining battery and her own physical body’s strength, Lena shoves Kara away. She activates her nanosuit’s quantum wave in the same movement. It emits an explosive glow, knocking over anyone who is still upright. She had hoped it would be enough to incapacitate the demi-spirits, and create a disturbance in the planar particles. If she survives this, she would ponder about the science later. Kara should be long gone by then.

The demi-spirits writhe on the ground. Kara looks to be merely nudged, one knee on the ground, one hand on the transmitter, another reaching out to steady Lena. _Oh god she’s not going to do it._ Lena tries to yell at her, willing her to just zip the hell out, to tear through the malleable plane. Lena then, realises it’s too late, it’s always been too late. The moment passes. Lena sinks to her knees and hears Kara before she can feel arms catching her.

“Lena!”

With Lena’s eyes not able to stay open, Kara must’ve thought she’s lost consciousness. However, for longer than Lena can fathom, she stays aware of too many things—of Kara leaving her arms to launch herself into a fight, and another, and another, and another. She doesn’t hear the rest of it, but before her wakefulness finally surrenders, Lena hears the first signs of Kara losing her last reserves of energy. She does not have super hearing, but the panting, the slightly underwhelming claps of contact, the unbalanced shifting on the ground, the hair standing at the back of her own neck—they were enough.

* * *

When Lena comes to, her first instinct is to fling herself off the bed. If she doesn’t, she fears she might just sink into it, become one with it. When she moves, though, she meets resistance in the form of hot flesh pressing on her waist. Before she even opens her eyes, she gleans on the only person it could be. Flashes of their recent bout with fate blink in and out of her still potato brain.

“Kara?”

She meets no response. There’s just this head nuzzled and breathing in the crook of Lena’s neck, otherwise unmoving. The heat calms her enough to steer the images swimming in her head until they settle into a more coherent stream. She remembers Kara launching herself to meet twenty two ceaseless people over and over again. She can only imagine how that must’ve ended and how important it is that Kara not be woken up.

And so Lena lies still. Never mind that she doesn’t understand why or how they’re both breathing in a strange pocket of time. It’s enough that they still are.

Her eyes eventually look for the door, but finds that there isn’t one. There is only a cavity in the wall leading to a bright hallway. She doesn’t let herself fall into a sense of safety. The Luthor manor has proven that the worst prisons have neither bars nor locks.

But when Kara makes a faint cry of pain, shuffling even closer as if to seek refuge, Lena finds that it’s not the ominous sense of captivity that bothers her about the lack of a door. Not that this is that kind of moment, but she is held flush to Kara, their legs entangled. It gives her a funny feeling, a concern even, for whoever might pass by and walk in on them. Lena cannot pass this off as the usual legitimately clinical closeness.

Not even to herself. Hadn’t she and Kara been touching each other almost every training session? The feeling of skin against skin should not be unseating her heart several times over.

She’s no novice to sharing a bed for the sole purpose of sleeping, either. She’s had Sam and Ruby climb in together after bloating themselves with Lena’s homemade ice cream (Vegan of course). Even when it was just Sam, it felt like nothing but a natural progression. Just a thing she discovered some families do. 

When she’s convinced herself that the intimacy is just an offshoot of having survived a brutal fight together, she lets herself name the scent on Kara’s skin. Among the usual sweetness, there’s a hint of something even more familiar. Something like milk. She lifts her own wrist to her nose and realises it’s on her, too. It’s only now she’s realising that they’re wearing fresh, soft garments. They must’ve both been bathed and clothed.

But not by Kara (thank the fates), judging from how spent and bruised she looks. Somehow, she can better handle the thought of strangers bathing her in milk as what is likely a custom.

When she chances a glance at the sleeping woman, something else past her catches Lena’s attention. She was prepared to meet a wall, or a tiny window with bars, anything but more stars than she has ever seen with her naked eyes. Their bed is apparently pressed against the frame of a large, open window.

That’s probably why Kara’s running hot. She doesn’t have her notes right now on Kryptonian biology, but she knows enough to determine that it’s not because Kara’s sick. Not yet, at least. But some of the energy she recovers is spent heating her body up in response to the cold, no doubt slowing her progress.

Lena winces in her attempt to slowly extricate herself from Kara’s body. She is not unfamiliar with extremely delicate and slow procedures, like attaching an elusive substance on microscope slides with forceps. But slow movement of her own body means being overwhelmingly aware of every tender bruise. That battle was a wringer.

When Kara shifts a little, Lena immediately takes a chance, quickly scooting away. She nearly yelps, nowhere near prepared for the movement to wrack her from head to foot. Still, it’s better than stretching that same pain for a thousand seconds.

With her pathetic amount of strength, she climbs over Kara, bypassing her, to get to the window. When she reaches it, she can’t help but poke her head out. They look to be in the building she saw earlier. The hill appears to be even more orange from this angle, orange in contrast to the blue of the night. There are forests and more rolling hills in the dark. Their trees suggest shapes Lena’s knowledge of flora didn’t cover. However strange they look, though, they all seem to offer places to hide.

She gauges that they’re not even very high up. If Lena only had her suit, she can sling Kara over her shoulders and they can jump out the window. She whips her head around, on the scarce chance that they’d at least spare her creation. She had not had much hope to be honest, but on the table beside the bed is her suit in its collapsed form—a cube no larger than five potatoes. _Damn, she could really use some potatoes right now._

She might have imagined it, but she hears a tiny whimper from Kara. When she looks, an almost imperceptible shiver passes over the Kryptonian. Lena scrambles for the window handle, cursing herself to get it together. She sighs, thankful that the mechanisms for windows in Nightvale are the same as the ones on earth. Once she has closed it, she fixes the blanket on Kara, raising it all the way to the Kryptonian’s jaw.

It takes Lena a while, but she eventually ambles to the table nesting her collapsed nanosuit. However, no matter how much she pokes and tinkers with it, it bears no signs of life. Their battle must’ve lasted for hours for both its solar power and reserves of biofuel to completely run out.

She finds herself hovering by the opening of the room, daring to set neither foot nor head past it. From whichever angle she stands, she couldn’t see much of what lies at the end of the hallway.

The absence of a door might be a test, or it could very well be an insidious taunt. If the window is wide open and they’re kept in a room with no door, then it’s probably because there really is nowhere to run. Letting no insult faze her, she turns her back on the door, facing instead the entirety of the room.

It’s a bitch of an effort to will her eyes away from Kara’s sleeping form. Once she looks at the opposite side of the room, though, she finds something else worthy of her unrelenting gaze. She doesn’t know why it’s not the first thing she noticed earlier.

Plastering the entire wall opposite the bed is a shelf brimming with books. The spines are in pristine condition, but not like they’re untouched. If they were, they would’ve been covered with dust. She takes her time moving towards it, fearing that if she comes too close, it would reveal itself to be one of those wretched wallpapers found in some coffee shops. She does not breathe until she taps the top of a red hardcover, dislodging it slowly from its resting place.

“How long do sun people recharge?,” a bright voice says, nearly sending Lena to an early grave. When she whirls around to meet its owner, she finds herself having to lower her gaze. A little girl with loose, cloudy curls stands by the door. Her question is the least confusing bit about this exchange. For instance, if not for the curious glances at Kara, Lena would have asked what she meant by sun people.

“Typically,” Lena begins. “With the sun, or yellow sun simulators, they only need a day.”

The girl nods in a way that makes Lena wonder just exactly how long they’ve been out. And then, as if it’s something to be shy about, she asks if she can come in. Lena almost asks her to repeat herself. If Nightvale turns out to be a nest for vampires, she might as well throw her science degrees out the window.

“I think so,” says Lena, banishing her silliness, but becoming no less confused. She would question later if this is just how other people keep their prisoners—with unlocked doors, cozy little libraries, and polite little girls. All she can do now, is to wait until the other shoe drops. “There’s no door anyway,” Lena adds.

“But that shouldn’t mean anyone should just enter. Is it not rude where you’re from?”

“Where I’m from,” says Lena, letting herself smile at the girl who has just dawdled in. “There are doors. I’m Lena by the way. What can I call you?”

“I am Asha.” beaming like she’s been waiting to be asked. “A Nommoli in training. Sorry that we do not have the sun, by the way.”

Asha looks genuinely sorry. It didn’t take more than a beat for her to beam at Lena again. “But she only needs time to recover, and if there’s anything we have in abundance, it’s time. You are safer here.”

“Where _is_ here? What is the Nightvale?”

“I am not sure, honestly. But don’t tell anyone. They might catch on that I have not been paying attention in my lessons.”

Lena wants to ask about the lessons, but Asha holds out her empty palm. She raises her other hand and makes as if to pick up an invisible veil. From under which, a tray of bread, fruits and a pitcher appears. She sets it on the bedside table

With a more complicated flourish of her hands she retrieves a clay vessel. Somehow, Lena knows Asha is not giving them the goods out of thin air. It looks a lot like she is accessing a linked chamber elsewhere. She just happens to have the skill, or perhaps device to take them. Could these be trans-matter portals being used for everyday items? Before she can ask, Asha approaches her, carefully cupping the clay pot.

“This is kamaline. Ayo said I should patch you both up with it. It’s a Nommoli healing concoction, you see. I should have poured this earlier in the bath when I dunked you both in it, but Okoye took a while to prepare it and I was not going to wait around you with your funny smell.

“Oh,” is all Lena manages. Of course the kid is strong enough to have hauled them both to a bath. Lena has yet to wrap her head around how none of them seem to be mortal, but for now she will do her still spinning head a favour and shut herself up.

“I can do it myself,” the little girl says. “But since you’re awake, I can leave you with it.”

“I- thank you,” Lena says, taking the pot. “I’m sorry if they’re obliging you to attend to us.”

“Not at all. It’s an excuse to skip lessons.”

Lena smiles at that. Asha looks like she could be ten or eleven, but she can’t help wondering just how old this child really is.

“Glad to be of service then,” Lena says.

“Is it true humans really spend most of their life doing lessons?”

“I sure hope so, Asha. Why do you ask?”

“I wasn’t human for very long. I think I got sick.”

Lena watches Asha closely. She doesn’t seem at all upset about that.

“So,” Lena asks, unsure if she’ll be able to grasp the right words. “If this is some kind of after life, does that mean we’re-

“Oh, no,” Asha says, giggling. “For now, that’s entirely up to you.”

She tries not to glean the obvious question. _For now_. Until when is their life here up to them?

“Erm. I don’t mean to be rude, Asha, but… what happened? Why were we spared? For now, that is.”

“I suppose _you_ would think ‘spared’ is the word for it. Your transmitter is being examined by The Teacher. I’m attending to you, so as to leave them uninterrupted. They are extending their foresight to speak to the star, Sirius B. It’s to see how much the future has changed now that you’ve interrupted it.”

“If they like what they see, they’ll keep the transmitter, and they will return you to your homes. Then, they will seal the place for some of eternity.”

“What happens if they… if they don’t like what they see?”

“They’ll destroy the transmitter, and they will return you to your homes. Then, they will seal the place for _all_ of eternity.”

Lena wonders, really wonders, if that’s not such a bad deal after all. Will 6 transmitters still work on a global scale? CADMUS plans won’t work with one transmitter missing, but she would still be able to distribute renewable energy to most of the world then. Either way, it seems that the only next course of action for them is to get better.

“Is that what they told you?”

“No, but I’ve been getting good at catching glimpses of the future. I was just kidding about the eternity part. Unfortunately, they may really destroy the transmitter.”

“Glimpses, huh. Is that what the lessons are for?”

“I wish.”

Lena looks out the window, as if the stars will also let her in on the show.

“I was told it was very sunny where they took you from. I forget what that is like. Nightvale is called Nightvale for a reason.”

“Again, I don’t mean to be rude, Asha, but… what- Who are your people?”

“We are you. You are us.”

“What?”

“Just a joke. We’re not like the soothsayers in those Greeks myths that speak in riddles. We’re just… people I guess.”

“But are you human?”

“No less than you are. We just don’t live on earth anymore like you do. Those born in our tribe are baptised with a contract. When we pass over, we are given a choice. We can be keepers of time, but everything that entails that are done here, in Nightvale. You see, it’s a pocket of time.”

“or non-time?”

“Ha, you _are_ smart. I knew Ayo prefers to keep you around for a reason.”

“And Ayo is… who are they?”

“Ayo is the direct descendant of the very first Nommos. Ayo is now our Nommos, our Teacher for the time being. Everyone here is a teacher, or in my case, teacher to be, but Ayo is the Teacher of Teachers.”

Lena has never heard the word teacher uttered so many times in one go. Not a particularly difficult word, but it has her head of genius IQ spinning.

“And they teach what, time keeping? Is that like what the Time Bureau does?”

“Time Bureau,” Asha scoffs. “You’re funny, too.”

Asha glances at Lena, then at Kara, and then at Lena’s hand. The weight in it suddenly announces itself. She’s forgotten she’s been holding the red book.

“The Teacher will see you after you have rested, but if you don’t feel like resting, you can read the books or wander around.”

For the thousandth time, Lena wonders if this is some kind of trap.

“Whatever you want, honestly” Asha adds, sounding once again like a ten-year old. “But if you’re going out of the room, pls summon me. We can go together, and I’ll have another excuse to skip class.”

Lena must be frowning because Asha gives her a placating look, as if _she_ is the child.

“Don’t worry about time,” Asha tells her. “It doesn’t worry about you.”

As if she didn’t just say something life altering, the little girl turns to leave. Lena half expects her to disappear into thin air. Instead, Asha walks out the space where a door should be.

Lena does want to take the offer of exploring the ethereal—palace? Headquarters? But there is no way she can leave Kara alone, in this plane or another. For just a second, she understands why Kara could not just leave her in Nightvale when she had the chance.

With the last wisps of that understanding, she sinks into the fluffy chair. _God is everything here this fluffy?_ She then places the book on her lap like a tray. Lifting up the clay pot, she sniffs cautiously at the kamaline, a word she has never heard before. It smells a lot like lavender and vanilla, with a hint of spices.

She dips her finger in the pitcher, quickly at first, on the chance it’s probably acid. She considers that it might be such a trap, with a child sent to deliver and complete some sort of sick joke. Then, she remembers there were plenty other chances to kill them. Should they so inclined, there’s no reason the oil would be more efficient than any other way to get rid of them.

When nothing happens after the first contact, she dabs the warm, sticky liquid to one of her small cuts. Almost instantly, she can see the cut mending. She waits a little longer to make sure there would be no adverse effects. When it appears she’s not going to die or anything close, she applies Kamaline to as many cuts as she can, while leaving most of it for Kara.

Lena can just apply them now, but it feels intrusive doing it while Kara’s still sleeping. She turns her attention back to the books. Maybe they’ll give her clues on how this not-quite place works.

* * *

“Luthor?”

“Hey.” Lena immediately drops her book, straightening up for a better look at The Kryptonian. Only her head is elevated enough to peer at Lena.

“Why are we… where are we?”

“The Nightvale.”

“Oh, that wasn’t a dream?”

“Unfortunately.”

Like Lena, Kara seems to find the expanse outside the window terrifyingly wondrous.

“Is this some kind of trick?”

“Either way, we can’t do much about it.”

With as many details as she can offer, she recounts what she gathered from her encounter with Asha. As she watches Kara’s face go through a range of reactions, she feels a sudden urge to summon the kid, knowing she and Kara would get along. Not that she’ll do it, but she _does_ find herself wondering how exactly she’s supposed to summon the little girl. It’s not like she left them with instructions.

“So… I guess we’re to rest. You solar flared, and… you won’t exactly break out of the veil without me.”

“That was really dumb, Lena,” she says, huffing. “Just sacrificing yourself like that...”

Lena opens her mouth, closes it, and opens it again but finds herself only drawing air. 

“We can talk about it another time when my body is not useless or something,” says Kara.

It seems it didn’t take much for Kara to take her word. That, more than anything right now, gives her something to think about. She could’ve been uttering complete bullshit and Kara would believe her. She tells herself the Kryptonian is physically incapable of doing much. It’s probably the only reason she surrenders to Lena’s story.

In quiet resignation, Lena reintroduces herself to the soft cushion of the chair, and the book of memory she’s been puzzling over. She resumes almost peacefully like they’re not in some kind of mess. Two pages later, she feels Kara watching her. Without looking up from her book, she breaks the stupid silence.

“Yes?”

“Why are you not resting, Luthor?”

When she does look up to peer at Kara, the woman pats the space beside her.

“I- well. I’m ok. This chair is soft enough.”

“Don’t be dumb. From what you’ve told me, you’ll need a full rest. Come on. It’s just me.”

“It’s just you,” she repeats. 

“Luthor you’re stressing me out. Just come lie down and sleep. I won’t be able to fall asleep if I keep hearing you think.”

Kara moves as if to get out of bed to drag Lena, but with her upward movement, she yelps at what must be a shock of pain. Lena imagines a massive bruise on her ribs. She saw Okoye and Ekon take their turns slamming into it.

The result, however, is the same had Kara had enough strength: Lena on the bed, if only to help Kara lay back down.

“This bed is insanely soft,” Kara mutters.

“So soft,” Lena instantly agrees. She was going to help Kara sit up, but remembers the pot Asha left for her.

“Do you trust me?”

Kara looks at her like she just asked for the moon, and she is considering it. Lena didn’t mean it like a confrontation or anything like that. She thinks to clarify herself but Kara manages to put a hand on Lena’s.

“Yes,” she says simply.

When Lena pulls down the blanket, she only now realizes that the clothes swadling both of them are some sort of robe. It would make it easier for Lena to work through Kara’s injuries. She gently tugs the tails holding Kara’s robe together, pausing before parting the cloth to the sides. She looks at Kara for any signs of resistance, but finds none. Later, she would mull over the look that crossed Kara’s face, but for now, it passes as permission.

When she withdraws the robe all the way to the side, she freezes. It’s bad. It doesn’t seem like Kara has broken a rib, but they’re bruised like an overripe banana. She’ll need to get her powers back asap. Lena has half a mind to summon Asha who probably knows more about healing than she does. A child’s light fingers would probably be more suited to this.

She can feel Kara’s eyes following her when she lifts herself from the bed, a picture of calm, to retrieve the pot of kamaline. When she returns, Kara is smiling at her as if she’s not confined. “You can tell me it’s bad you know. I’m a big girl.”

For some reason, Lena does not find it amusing. Not when she’s the reason Kara is hurt like this. She kneels by Kara’s side, careful not to dip the bed too much that she would be jostling her patient.

“This healed my cuts and bruises. It’s magic.”

“Magic?”

Lena finds it in her to laugh still. “I know right? It’s like the nanobots knitting wounds but better. The bruises disappear too, and the pain goes soon after. I just hope it works just as well on you.”

She pours a few drops on the tender spot, and then spreads it with her fingers. Kara’s hips dip the bed further to shrink from Lena’s touch.

“Sorry,” Lena mumbles.

Kara looks to be fighting to keep her breathing normal. “It’s okay,” she pants. “I just. I didn’t realize how unused I am to injuries. How do humans go on like this? I could barely even stand when I solar flared and stubbed my toe in my kitchen.”

“Don’t talk too much, Kara. It will only hurt more.”

Kara _does_ will herself to stop making her dumb comments, and Lena makes sure to be gentler. Soon enough, her hand glides across Kara’s sides like a feather. She withdraws, watching the bruises on the right ribs fade. It’s a relief that it works on Kara, too, but just then, she notices the bruises on the other parts of Kara’s body. Her chest, her lower abdomen, and even a big one peeking from the blanket on her upper thigh.

She gears herself to venture out and fetch Asha for more kamaline, but when she looks at the clay pot, it’s full again as if she didn’t just use most of it up. She can wonder about how that happened later. For now, the sight of Kara’s bruises set her to work.

One of the biggest points, for Kara, of being Lena’s partner is that she’ll protect her from anti-alien weapons, and forces better battled with tech. She wonders how Kara’s kryptosuit is, lying abandoned in their tent in the Machuasi stone forest. Why did she not think to create a more portable one? Why didn't she create a backup? Some scientist she is. If only she had prepared them enough, if only she researched enough, she would’ve seen this coming. Kara wouldn’t be hurt like this.

“Ah!” Kara whimpers. Lena’s feather touch, it turns out, has grown a little heavier.

“I’m so sorry Kara, I-

“Hey, Luthor, look at me.”

Reluctantly, she meets Kara’s eyes.

“Where’d you go?”

“What?”

“You got distracted.”

“Oh, right. Yeah. I’m really sorry, Kara.”

Lena tries to pass it off as an apology for being distracted, but of course, of course, Kara sees through it.

“It’s not your fault, Luthor.”

For a while neither of them says anything else. They both watch as the bruises gradually disappear. Experimentally, Kara pokes at her rib. She winces a little, but then smiles, and does it again.

“What _is_ that thing?”

“I don’t know but I want to take it home,” says Lena. Thankful for having something to comment on other than Kara’s injuries.

Kara reaches out for the pot. Lena hands it over without protest. If Kara wanted to finish the job herself, she should be able to. But when Kara dabs her finger in the pot, she lifts it to Lena lips, faintly applying it to the corner.

“You missed a spot.”

“Oh.”

Kara gives the pot back to Lena, and rests her hand on the mattress.

“Uh, Luthor?”

“Yeah?”

“If you don’t mind I have more on my back.”

Lena laughs, trying not to take it as a jab. She knows Kara doesn’t mean to blame her for this. Lena knows she will eventually circle back to doing penance, but for now, she finds comfort in Kara’s words, her easy smile. With more gentleness she’s ever had to muster in her life, she flips Kara over and sets to work.

* * *

“What is that smell?”

“Oh, right!” Lena, says, springing to action. “It’s probably cold now, though.”

She places the tray between them, careful not to spill the contents from the pitcher which apparently is guava juice. When she picks up the bread, though, it’s still warm as if fresh from the oven.

“What _is_ this place?”

“I don’t know, Lena, but I sure hope it’s not like in the movies. You know, the ones that will seduce us until we no longer want to leave.”

Lena holds the bread to her nose. “I’m more worried this is poisoned.”

Kara scoffs.

“What? If they wanted to kill us they would’ve already done that already. They wouldn’t waste poison and bread on us.”

There are no signs at all that Kara’s powers are back, but at least she can move without hurting herself. She can sit upright, and reach over to grab some bread.

Once they’re done eating, Lena leans on the back of the bed, and picks up the book she abandoned some time ago. It’s about memories. That much she’s gathered, but it wasn’t enough.

“You speak Latin?”

Lena blinks. She thought Kara had gone back to sleep, but there she is, lying on her side, head propped on her elbow, looking up at Lena with her big blue eyes.

“I do, but I don’t understand enough of Arabic.”

Kara tilts her head, obviously needing an explanation. Lena shows Kara the pages annotated with notes written in Arabic. Suddenly, Kara sits closer, taking the book from Lena’s hands. She flips through a few pages at random until she lands somewhere near the end. Something about it excites the Kryptonian so much that she props herself up to Lena’s level. The effort seems to still take quite an effort.

“I still feel like I fought an army of metahumans.”

“Because you did.”

“Right,” says Kara, smiling. “Twenty two soldiers reviving every minute felt like five hundred.”

“I don’t know. I’m kind of proud, though.”

“What, like these guns are your work?” Kara drops the book to draw up her sleeve and show off her left bicep.

Lena, for her part, laughs in place of choking. “Why are you like this?”

“Can’t help it. What I can help with, though, is this.” Kara places one of the extra pillows (there were like, ten of them) on her lap, and holds the book over it. Kara makes sure Lena lets herself relax before turning to the book, as if she’s about to tell Lena a bedtime story.

“This, here, is a letter.”

“Oh. I thought that was just a longer annotation.”

Lena can only watch as Kara reads. Judging by the way she eventually flicks her eyes from the bottom to the top, it must be Kara’s second read. It feels strangely like she’s intruding on a secret, and if Kara doesn’t say anything, Lena might just start yelling.

“So,” Lena says. “You know Arabic?”

“Yes, but this is not just Arabic. It’s in Arabic code. This book must’ve been a disguise for handing a letter over during a war.”

“Can you read it to me?”

“Woah, someone’s getting impatient.”

“Shut up.”

“I thought you wanted me to talk.”

“To share.”

“Don’t worry, Luthor. I have no intention of keeping this to myself. It’s just taken longer for me to decode.”

After a moment, Kara swallows to clear her throat.

 _“My dearest Sayid,”_ Kara begins.

_“I am shooketh by the size of the bat you sent me. I ordered a hitting bat, and instead you gave me the kind with wings. The kind that breathes, too. It is eating all my fruits now. I suppose you’re not entirely wrong. Maybe I shall name it after you.”_

_Yours,_

_Levi_

_P.S. Attached here is the invoice for the fruits I now have to feed your namesake._

_P.P.S. I still want a bat. Not the mammal.”_

“Oh come on, Kara, that can't possibly be what they’re saying.”

“Why not?”

“I swear to God if you’re not going to share the letter with me-

“Okay, okay," Kara says in between giggling. "It’s just… okay, fine.” Kara gives Lena a weird look. Weird even for Kara. She clears her throat once more and Lena wonders how they've managed to sit even closer.

_“My Dearest Sayid,_

_I am writing to warn you that my infantry has heard of the rebellion and your next camp. I fear this might be the last. If you are reading this (of course you are reading this, you are smart and always find your way to me), but yes, you reading this means, I have escaped my own camp. I’m conceited and think I am important enough for them to stall their advance and spend time searching for me. I can imagine you laughing at my nonsense. I miss your laugh. I hope with everything in me to hear it again. In the mean time, the memory of it shall serve as my fuel. There’s a lot of running to be had. I wish—_

At which point, Kara looks at Lena. She must know she is hanging on to every word, but it appears that Kara is looking to make sure she’s not alone in the feelings the rest of the letter had troubled her.

_“I wish I could give you a future more certain, and less catastrophic than this. Besides being a man in love with another man, we are cursed to be on opposite sides of a fruitless war. I am not naive enough to fail considering that there is an alternative to seeing you again. I am not going to ask you to forget your fear. To forget is the work of the devil. To remember is to love. Fear, if you must. Fear well, but fear knowing that your hand is in mine. Fear knowing that we have our memories. Maybe then fear would not be the worst thing we share. To remember, after all, is to love. And I remember everything, everything with you. If we are lucky, I will see you again, meet me at the docks where we first tried to kill each other in the name of our leaders who do not care about us. Oh how naive we were then, what the stars bore for us. Anyway, meet me, and meet me well. You are foolish enough to risk it all. I know better than to push you away. So for now, I will assume this will send you to an escape of your own._

_Find me always._

_Yours,_

_Levi"_

Lena doesn’t know how long it’s been, but it’s only when Kara feels the need to look away that they seem to realise they’ve been staring at each other. Still, Kara doesn't lessen the space between them.

“What happens next?”

“It’s a letter, Lena. A love letter. Not a novel.”

“Are you sure your translation is right?”

Lena says, attempting to make light of the moment. Kara, deep in thought, doesn’t return her ribbing. She closes the book and runs her fingers on its perfect binding.

“I think the more literal translation for one part is ‘Memory is love’," Kara says. She's still using her letter-reading voice, which means Lena is kind of in trouble. She knows Kara is trying to tell her something, trying to share something of herself. She tries to focus on the message and not the trembling one can feel when they're close enough to someone's throat. "But ‘to remember is to love’ is something I swear I’ve heard somewhere before.”

Despite her wording, it looks like Kara knows exactly where she’s heard it from. The letter has left them so many questions. Such as _who are Levi and Sayid? Did they meet or suffer the fate common for men like them, and men in camps at war with each other? How did this letter disguised as a book (a book on memory nonetheless) end up here? Are all the books here just letters? Whose room is this? Where the fuck are they? No, seriously where is The Nightvale? Where did Kara learn Arabic? Why did Kara look at her like that?_

Some time in her reflection, Kara returns her smile, too nervous to belong to someone so cynical. This isn't to say that Lena is faring any better. She turns off the lamp, and sinks into the cushions, pretending for all the world that she has not just been changed forever.

* * *

Disclaimers and linked notes: This is my first piece of prose ever. I’ve never even written a short story before so I’m not familiar with many protocols. But I do read enough to feel like I should include this disclaimer even though this is fanfiction. The DCTV characters are not my property. They are fictional, and so are my original characters. They are merely inspired by some facts. Here are some of them:

  * [Spanish Colonisers brought 95,000 African slaves to build their infrastructures in Peru](https://www.livinginperu.com/news-10855-outside-of-lima-perus-president-offered-public-apologies-to-the-afro-peruvian-community/)
  * [Nommoli people are inspired by the Dogon Tribe from West Africa who look up to androgynous leaders, and worship genderless ancestral spirits. They are not meant to be romanticized as an ideal community but to be recognised for their own merits. Nommos is their actual term for The Teacher](https://medium.com/@janelane_62637/the-splendor-of-gender-non-conformity-in-africa-f894ff5706e1)
  * [They identified stars, planets, moons AND their movements accurately waaay before Western science has even spotted them in the sky with powerful telescopes](https://lifestyle.inquirer.net/88347/the-dogon-tribes-extraordinary-knowledge-of-astronomy/)
  * I do not come from that tribe, and can only view it from a malleable perspective of respect and astute keenness, not experience. I am also not from Peru. I can only relate to the extent that I grew up in hispanic postcolonial culture despite being ethnically indigenous.
  * The term leeches for colonisers was adopted from [Nina Varela’s Crier’s War](https://www.goodreads.com/en/book/show/41951626) series (a sapphic series y’all should check out)
  * [Welcome to the Nightvale](http://www.welcometonightvale.com/), is the basis of the title, but besides being a place where strange things happen without much explanation, the setting is not really much like it. Nonetheless, it is an eccentric series you should check out



**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I'm not sure how anyone will take this many turns in the story but it's all part of a cohesive whole. None of these are random and unimportant to the ending. This is the hardest to write so far and not because of the rich settings, and characters, but because of the tenderness! Every time I write Kara and Lena being soft, I am reduced to nothing but a mush, and lifting my fingers to type suddenly takes a gargantuan effort. I hope you enjoy the tenderness. I am still hoping the cancellation of SG makes Season 6 even more about them. In the mean time, this story will live with me, and I hope it lives in you, too.
> 
> Stay safe! See you in another ten days.


	10. A Time for Coming Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Strategies, time lessons, but also Kara and Lena unable to talk without a designated buffer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry this is late and rather short :(  
> Writing the next chapter now! In the meantime, I hope there's enough in this to give you a metaphorical hug.

“It’s not magic, is it?”

“It’s not,” says The Teacher.

Lena raises an eyebrow, which, for no fathomable reason, remains in perfect condition despite fighting off an army.

“Mostly,” they add.

Kara and Lena have come across the most complex lab troubleshooting, but Kara has never seen her partner look more frustrated than she looks now, staring at a cup of coffee. If Lena had heat vision, she would have punched a hole in the ceramics by now.

She can’t exactly be blamed. Even Kryptonians, far advanced in science wouldn’t know what to make of a coffee cup that keeps refilling itself after being emptied. They weren’t surprised given that the clay pot of Kamaline had done the same after they lathered each other three times over. At the thought, Kara blushes, and then she curses silently for blushing at the memories, and then curses again because the cursing makes her cheeks heat up even more.

“Magic,” says Ayo, smiling entirely too wide at them, as if to newfound pets. “Is the suspension of scientific laws. That is not what is happening here, Ms. Luthor. Though, I cannot blame you of course. Magic is the explanation leeches are taught for science not discovered by their kind. Either magic, or aliens. Take for example the Incans, our friends. Did you not marvel at their work at Marcahuasi? Or the advanced acoustics of their ancient temples? I take it you have also been to the pyramids of Egypt, or at least listened to conspiracy theories that aliens built them. You see, leeches hate aliens like Ms. Zor-el here, yet they’d rather believe great pre-colonial civilizations were made possible by aliens than anyone with dark skin, than anyone who looks like me, or Asha, or Okoye.”

Despite being pointed a metaphorical finger on, Lena relaxes, giving her coffee cup a break.

“You’re right,” she says. “I’m sorry. I don’t even believe those theories myself, yet here I am accusing you of using magic when this system could very well be a mechanism you’ve long since mastered.. But Ayo, you _did_ say ‘mostly’.”

“I did?”

“See,” says Kara, trying to ignore the second batch of pastries that appeared out of thin air. She may or may not have glimpsed an apple strudel. “For someone they call _The_ Teacher, you’re not very teachy.”

Poorly stifled sniggers drift from wherever it is Asha’s eavesdropping. She met the little girl when, it turned out, summoning her just meant whispering her name three times. It seems that nobody but Kara could hear her laughing now.

“Oh, yes, that. Well you see, there are things demi-spirits can do to suspend certain laws of science.”

“So… you _can_ do magic,” asks Kara, if only to make it seem like she’s paying attention. Lena, for her part, glares at her. 

“What Kara is trying to say,” says Lena. “is that, if the suspension itself is assisted by science, is it really a suspension of science?”

“I am sure you are both familiar with transmatter portals.”

“Yes, I considered that to be how your people refill the coffee. The liquid must be passing through a miniscule portal connected to this cup.”

“You are not wrong,” says Ayo, sinking back into their chair. “Not at all. How much do you know of it?”

“I made a tiny portal once, but—

—You did?” Kara couldn’t help herself. She’s only ever heard of it in theory, even when she was Astra’s ward in Krypton’s most elite science guild.

“Yes,” Lena says, raising an eyebrow. The little shit is most definitely preening. _And seriously, how are her eyebrows still perfectly groomed?_

“But it never opened for more than two seconds.”

“No matter. That is enough,” Ayo chimes in, waving Lena’s concerns away like flies. “Creating one that can open for two seconds means you understand enough to suspend conventional scientific laws. You should be able to find it in you then to understand what it is we can do.”

“What do you mean?”

“The Nummoli tribe has always known about the Sirius clusters far before the so called scientists discovered them. To this day, nobody knows how we knew of it before telescopes powerful enough were invented. Yet it is not what anyone would call rocket science to us. Sciences we practice involve bending of elements, communing with nature in ways western science will never understand. No, it is not magic, but it transcends observable dimensions.”

“And I take it from the way you’re being vague that despite the fact that I’m capable of making portals and can therefore understand some of your science, that you have no intention of enlightening me.”

“Hmm,” Ayo says, making a show of considering the two of them. Kara would bet her gift certificates to Mcgrady’s Donuts that The Teacher has already thought about how much they’d be willing to relay way before this breakfast, or lunch or afternoon coffee break. ( _Who knows anymore?_ )

As Ayo launches on a more detailed explanation, Lena shifts in her seat, her foot accidentally brushing Kara’s calf. It’s like, only the third time and Kara is very much not counting. As interesting as the discussion is, she hasn’t been able to focus on what is being explained. She understands the urgency of Luthor’s questions. She understands that Ayo is simply indulging them, stalling their demand for the transmitter. Indulgent or not, none of the answers hold Kara’s attention more than the space between her and the Luthor does. Which, again is pretty fucking weird considering there’s supposed to literally just be air and a table between them.

Air that unfortunately crackles with a possibility she’s never allowed herself to see. Earlier, she had finally woken up recharged, only to find her arms wrapped around the Luthor. Considering how the woman simply sank into her touch, how unbothered her breathing was, Kara figured it wasn’t the first time she’s done this with Lena. In fact, despite losing two days of consciousness to her solar flare, her mind has been running vague vignettes of holding someone in her sleep. It doesn’t take much of her brain cells to know who it had to be.

The only memory that _does_ stand out is that window of consciousness when Luthor’s conversation with Asha had stirred her awake. She still remembers how they had both gone to sleep then, the words of a love letter hanging between them. Perhaps their closeness was merely second hand intimacy, as though intimacies could leap off books and latch on to unwilling hosts.

Nevermind the ghost of Lena’s fingers. It shouldn’t feel any different from the Luthor’s clinical touches, always precise and analytical. Yep, the leftover sense of intimacy is definitely that Levi dude’s fault wherever he is. Or _when_ ever. Never mind that seated across an ancient, powerful demi-spirit, Kara squirms, both despising and appreciating the table that keeps her and Lena apart.

“Did we change the future from your last staredown with the stars then?”

That at least gets Kara back to the matter at hand. Of course Lena has managed to lunge at the interrogation, no thanks to Kara’s less than functional brain.

“We need the transmitter,” Lena says. “You can’t destroy it.”

Ayo chuckles. “Of course we can, girl. Have you not been listening?”

“Okay, but, with all due respect, can you _please_ not… do that?”

“You have plans to use it to distribute energy, you said.”

“Yes, we do.”

“Would you be on this path if you have not seen a part of the future?”

If Kara didn’t know any better, she’d think Lena is trying to avoid her stare.

“Ah,” Ayo says, glancing curiously from Lena to Kara and back again. “I see you have not discussed this with your kryptonian.”

“I am _not_ her Kryptonian,” says Kara. “But you are right about her hiding things from me.”

If she could pull her hair out, she most probably would. With that impulse, she remembers why they’re in this predicament in the first place. If Kara had known this is some sort of attempt to avert a future, they would’ve prepared in case of meddling of time travelling agents.

“To answer your question,” says Lena, still determined not to meet Kara’s eyes. “Yes, I would have been on this path whether or not I’ve had a glimpse of the future.”

Ayo studies her then. After a millennia of sizing them both up, Ayo finally gives something resembling a clear answer. “I will not destroy the transmitter…”

“But? There’s a but there somewhere,” says Kara.

“But I will not let you keep it. Not yet.”

“But how can we prepare it for the energy distribution? We need to stablize and calibrate it.”

“We have no trouble at all stabilizing it by ourselves. In fact, we can run better tests here with all sorts of energy. See that lamp?”

They turn their gazes to the centerpiece that has been giving off a warm glow.

“It’s powered by Malefic.”

“What?” Kara and Lena say at the same time.

“But isn’t that the most dangerous, and most volatile energy in the known universe?”

“See we have all the time and abilities to convert anything, Ms. Luthor.”

They fall silent for a while, trying to process that knockout information, which, if Kara is being honest, she doesn’t quite believe.

“Do not worry if you do not have all the answers now. This is not the last time you will see me.”

“It’s not?” Kara and Lena mutter at the same time, their levels of alarm varying. For prisoners, they sure do feel snug and warm, but there’s only so much of Nightvale reality checks (and unchecks) they can take without going crazy.

Without attempting to hide their amusement, Ayo continues. “CADMUS cannot push through with their plans even with just one transmitter missing.”

Kara hates it but they are making more sense than any plan she’s come up with since waking up.

“You could’ve stopped the futile battle days ago,” says Lena. “But you didn’t. You didn’t stop it because you wanted to make sure we understand that any conversation we have is a direct order, not a negotiation. This is not afternoon coffee with you. This is a threat.”

At that Ayo laughs. Kara gets the idea that they do this a lot–laughing at the most inappropriate of times. Alex would not get along with them. It doesn’t take long before she hears Asha laughing, too, as though she no longer cares about being caught eavesdropping. For some reason Kara finds herself quite giggly, too because to be fair, they have been royally, spectacularly fucked. They are the earth’s strongest and smartest by most measures, yet here they are, prisoners in a pocket of time. Lena, not looking as eager to chime in, only raises an eyebrow.

“Oh I wish we can keep you,” Ayo manages to say in between giggles. “But your disappearance in the world will cause a terrible hole in the galaxy—

“It will?” Lena looks genuinely surprised it can’t be anything but endearing. Kara lets herself think how adorable it is that the woman is genuinely confused. She’d rather not think about how, after everything, Lena still seems to have little faith in herself. At least not yet. She’d rather let herself think that through words coming from a supreme being, Lena would finally think more significantly of herself.

“Why of course,” Ayo says. “I can’t go to the specifics, but science will be too stunted, several inventions and discoveries will not happen fast enough, it will take more time for aspiring girls to realize their potential because the science world lacks the best proof that women are great,” Kara doesn’t get enough time to appreciate the surprise on Lena’s face, because Ayo finally turns to her, with a look so distraught, Kara’s heart jumps. “And you, without you, there won’t be next level cronuts.”

Kara blinks, making sure she heard that right. “Wait, what are next level cronuts?”

“I said I cannot be specific.”

“Do you mean _I_ get to invent them?”

“Really,” says Lena. “ _That’s_ what concerns both of you?”

“See? It would really be nice to have you both around.” Ayo tries to straighten up, shaking off their laughing fit only with mild success. “Although now, I am afraid I have to send you both back.”

“No arguments here,” Kara said, while simultaneously being struck with an idea. A long shot, really. “But won’t it make sense if you just come with us?”

“Come with you?”

“With your magic—I mean your scientific advancements and your incredibly jacked army can—

“They’re not an army.”

“Exactly. They’re not even an army yet no army is a match for them.”

“They are teachers.”

“Then let them teach us.”

“They are too powerful outside of the Nightvale. _I_ am too powerful out there. Power only corrupts. Look what happened to the Time Bureau.”

“You know Ava Sharpe?”

In one glorious moment, Ayo rolls their eyes.

“I forget your only concept of time was peddled by these lackwits in black suits. The Time Bureau does not understand time perse. They have seen a future that is perfect at least for them. In order to ensure that comes to pass, they have taken it their responsibility to ensure that everything that leads up to that remains exactly as is. They became the blueprint of fascim, asserting that only one timeline must be kept. Never mind free will.”

Ayo is finally trying to teach them something, as teachers do. But Kara could not help but ask about the strange bunch who helped her out of a tight spot years ago.

“Is that why Ava Sharpe left the Time Bureau and joined the Legends instead?”

“Hmm. I suspect it has more to do with Sara Lance than with what she was molded to believe.”

“Oh, well, good for her.”

“Good for all of them, really.”

“Excuse me,” Lena says. “But who on earth are you two talking about?”

“People who chose each other over principles.”

“Oh, okay,” says Lena, looking almost as confused as she did staring at the coffee cup. “But weren’t you saying something crucial about time?”

Kara takes one look at Ayo and fears that the Nommos might break into another laughing fit.

“Don’t take Ms. Zor-el’s questions lightly Ms. Luthor. I am sure you two will be compelled to make choices outside your own principles. Is that not why you are working together?

Kara’s gaze drifts to Lena's eyes and immediately averts it. The Luthor had already been looking. Kara wonders how many more puzzles Ayo will confuse them with before sending their asses back to earth.

“But yes about time,” Ayo says, perhaps sensing the wealth of unresolved tension between them. Kara has been trying not to think about the things Luthor’s been hiding from her, or about how it was too easy for her to give her life up earlier. Hadn’t Kara told Lena they’d talk about it about it at a better time? Now she can’t stop thinking about how there might not even be a better time. She chances another glance at Lena who takes a deep breath before turning her attention back to Ayo.

“The Legends are not as obsessed with anachronisms as the Time Bureau is. I believe though, that hardly anything qualifies as an anachronism. If you think I follow orders from the stars, then you misunderstand the Nommoli completely. What I do is listen to them. It takes centuries to understand their language and listen to them and centuries more to learn how to discern what qualifies for a timeline altering expedition.”

Ayo leans towards the table as if to confide a secret with Kara and Lena.

“The stars have spoken about the necessity of destroying the transmitter, but with a new possibility presenting a new future, I am hardly compelled to stand in its way.”

“So does this mean you will help us?”

“No, I will stay in the Nightvale and let you proceed with what will come to pass, but I will not go out there to fight your battles.”

“And then…” Lena is so hopeful and determined, Kara has no choice but to look. It’s kind of like magic when she gets like this. “And then you will help us, won’t you?”

“What makes you certain we will help?”

“What makes you certain you won’t?”

Kara blinks at both of them. With nothing to contribute, she finally gives in and grabs the apple strudel off the self-refilling platter.

* * *

When the veil vomited Kara and Lena back to earth (and time), it’s as if not a second passed. They returned to their tent and items untouched, gathered them quietly and tried not to flinch whenever their fingers would accidentally touch.

Lena was right, they should’ve brought her private jet instead. Despite Kara’s record breaking flight speed, carrying a Luthor in her arms would make this the longest flight home like, ever.

* * *

Kara has been back in her van, parked exactly where she left it in National City, for hours, but she can’t stop looking at everything without seeing them in this altered light. This must’ve been what that girl from Spirited Away felt. Unfortunately, everything she sees in a whimsical, confusing lens includes one Lena Luthor.

She had dropped Lena off near her apartment earlier. For a moment, it looked like Lena would say something that would dispel the bubble they’re both stuck in. Instead, she told Kara she’s tired and that they’ll see each other the next day. There was no fight left in her to insist that they resolve things between them at that moment, or at least talk about the implications of losing their very first transmitter. Kara was tired, too. Even having recovered from her solar flare, her fatigue runs bone deep.

_So why can’t I sleep now?_

She turns and tosses on her narrow bed, which, after all the years of getting used to it, suddenly has her wishing she’s back in their bed at Nightvale. _Their_ bed. Oh Rao. She can’t still be thinking about _that_.

Not after Ayo implied they’ll one day need to give up their principles to choose someone. This makes her nothing if not a bundle of nerves considering the many people in her life she gave up for what she thinks is the better—Her relationship with Clark, Mon-el, and even Alex.

What could be more difficult than those choices? The fact that a future-seeing ancient demi-spirit implicated both hers and Lena’s future in the same breath does not help.

Yes, Lena has helped her get so much better at fighting. But she knows now more than ever, that no amount of training can prepare her for the choices she has to make. She has no idea what these choices will be, but given how doomsday everything has felt so far, she has no business being at ease.

And what of the closeness? What of home?

Maybe she was right not to accept her sister’s peace offering right away, or whatever Kal-el has up his ultra tight superhero sleeves. Perhaps if Kara doesn’t let herself get too close to Luthor, in the same way she’s kept the others at arm’s length, the looming choices would not be that much harder to make.

As if quick movements would stop her from thinking, Kara hops off the bed, deeply relieved that she can still float her way down. She opens her laptop, still unmoved from when she last placed it on the desk. If she can’t sleep, she might as well work. She can’t let Cat Grant think she paid her for nothing, can she? She grins until she remembers that the investigation Cat Grant paid her for is that of Lena Luthor. A string of curses tumble easily and rather loudly out of Kara's mouth. And then some more before she sinks back in her bed. _What's a girl to do?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the late and rather short update! Dw I haven’t lost an ounce of fuel in writing at all. Writing this has been my only happy reprieve from work and grad school. So yes, I’ll keep at it, with varying paces at least for the rest of October and November. I hope this at least makes you smile!
> 
> (Also, I've been locked out of my twitter lol comments here would be better.)
> 
> Pls stay safe and healthy out there. Hugs.


	11. A New Hope

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kara and Lena may or may no longer be that oblivious, but heroes never have it easy do they?
> 
> Sam also needs a hug tbh

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Henlo. First of all, I’m really sorry for this very late update! I did say it was going to be like this for a while, but I can imagine it blows to be left hanging. Having said that, I’m extra grateful to everyone still keeping up with this or even shelving it for later. I hope there’s something in here for everyone. Don’t look at me. I’m kind of just the typist. These characters boss me around and write themselves. Nonetheless, hope you enjoy and happy Halloween!! (Feelings are scarier than ghosts)

“Samantha, you’re floating.”

“What? Oh.”

Sam’s heels barely make a sound on her way back to the ground. They had agreed a long time ago that her powers are only for emergencies. Though Lena has stabilised and locked away Reign’s dark matter, they couldn’t risk the chance of anything poking it in its dormant state.

The thing is, Sam could always help it. She has always been able to keep her powers in check. Seeing her absently float isn’t exactly reassuring. Something about their account of Nightvale must’ve set her deep in thought. In five whole minutes, she has not said anything. Neither has Kara.

There’s a soft shuffle of rubber against concrete next to her. Perhaps out of courtesy, Kara has let gravity plant her to the ground, too. It’s only now, with both of them back on her level that Lena realises she’s had an entire conversation with two hovering Kryptonians. Neither of them seemed too pleased with her.

“Nightvale huh,” Sam says.

“Yes, Nightvale.”

Sam merely hums, hands nesting her chin as she thinks. Lena takes this as a sign to continue. “Did you know that they’re capable of stabilising and converting energy into anything? For example, Malefic.”

The offshoot of every functioning lamp in the lab punctuates Sam’s eyes with a glint as she finally grants Lena her focused attention. “You think they can… Wait is that where you sealed the-

An understanding passes between them, and Lena can’t help but feel holes being burned through her skull. Not when Kara must be all but silently willing her to explain.

“No,” says Lena. “I’ve never been there before our… visit.”

“Okay,” Sam says, getting the hint. Kara doesn’t need to know about Reign any more than she already does. “In any case, you’re not off the hook.”

“Noted, _Mom_.”

“So let me get this straight,” Sam says.

“No thanks, I’m pansexual.”

Lena rolls her eyes. To Kara’s credit, she’s held back on being a gadfly for all of twenty four hours.

“You two were stuck in a timeless pocket of space,” says Sam, pressing on unbothered. Making jokes and changing topics don't work on her. “For an unknown number of days with a bunch of gods.”

“Demi-spirits,” Lena and Kara say in chorus.

The difference doesn’t register with Sam.

“You said you were going to be careful about this whole thing.”

“We were,” says Lena, hoping Kara would catch on and have her back.

“Yep,” Kara says. “We only got into _one_ fight. Well, it’s more like one big fight divided into mini fights.”

 _You shithead of a traitor,_ Lena had almost said until she remembers she and Kara aren’t exactly talking. The only reason they’re making any sound in this lab, is because Sam has been here for ages. She had apparently dropped by at half past five in the morning for their usual training only to find the lab empty, and their phones unreachable. Hence, the angry mother hen.

It was perhaps only at the glimpse of Lena’s glare that Kara adds a disclaimer. “They turned out to be kind of nice? They had the best breakfast. Or were those midnight snacks? I guess we’ll never know.”

“Lena Kieran Holt Luthor,” Sam says, not even sparing Kara a glance. She hasn’t raised her voice. Never really does. “You were going to go on your very first extraction, and you didn’t care to tell me? You could’ve at least sent a stress signal.”

“Yes, but you couldn’t have followed where we were taken.”

Lena would very much like to be lectured without Kara lurking in her periphery. She doesn’t need to give The Blur more fuel to whatever resentment she may have been harbouring.

“That’s not the point and you know it,” Sam says, still calm. Lena and Ruby have always been in agreement that her zen is what makes her scorn unnerving.

“Alex won’t like this,” says Sam under her breath.

“Wait, why would my sister know anything about this?”

“Sam,” Lena pleads. “She’s D- She’s FBI. You can’t just tell the government anything.”

Kara, still waiting for answers, does not seem to notice her slip up. Her eyes bore into Sam as if she wasn’t just scolding the two of them moments ago.

“We sort of had an agreement,” Sam mumbles.

“Over drinks?” Lena couldn’t help but add. Kara looks between the two of them, incredulous. This must be new information to her. She wonders if the sisters even talk.

“It wasn’t a big deal,” Sam says. She directs her attention then at Lena, clearly not over her lecture. “Since you have the self-preservation instincts of a dude praying mantis, we agreed to help each other keep tabs.”

“Sam,” says Lena, walking up to her space. “You know we shouldn’t be involving anyone even if it’s Kara’s sister. _Especially_ if it's Kara’s sister.”

“We’re already involved, Lena. By virtue of it being your necks on the block.”

“Hello,” Kara says. “I’m _right_ here.”

"Maybe Kara and Alex should be having this conversation between them first.”

“Lena, you can't seriously think Alex should be left in the dark any longer than she’s already been.”

“Kara might not be ready for Alex to know as much as you do."

“ _Still_ here,” she hears Kara mutter.

“She’s a secret agent,” says Sam as though Lena’s taking too long to get it. “She understands the necessity of secrets.”

“Why do you know so much about what Agent Danvers understands?”

In the thick of their exchange Kara raises her voice.

“Would appreciate it if you can include me in your conversation about my sister.”

Sam _does_ notice her then.

“You,” she says, still terrifyingly calm.

 _Oh boy_.

“Have you ever thought about how, if anything were to happen to you, I’d be the last daughter of Krypton? How can you let Lena take the reins on this?”

“I-

-I know I’m not your responsibility but I would appreciate it if you’re a little more concerned with not dying. I don’t think Superman would be able to help me the way you do, no offense.”

“None taken?”

“Your stories of Krypton helped a little, Kara. More than I let on. I-”

Something about the way Sam pleads has the makings of a Rubicon river crossing, a point of no return.

“Worldkillers were created with imprints of planetary libraries. The history of known planets that needed destroying.”

Wherever Sam is going with this, it would’ve been much more helpful if she said something about it years ago. Lena would cut her off right then with a projectile of questions. It was not, however, her place to interrupt a moment deeply rooted in what it means to be Kryptonian.

“I still have fragments of the planet in my head from sharing my body with a worldkiller.”

“I," Kara all but chokes. "You didn’t- you didn’t tell me that.”

Lena's mouth parts and stays parted because, _same?_ She had absolutely no idea. The breadth of space in her lab suddenly becomes more pronounced. Every movement is something to note. She’s made aware of how familiar she’s become with the rise and fall of Kara’s chest, or the way her skin resists and relents around the scar on her forehead. A scar she must’ve only procured when she was in Krypton.

When her gaze returns to Sam, she sees a shared pain she can only imagine understanding. Both her best friend and her-whatever Kara is-are in pain and there’s nothing she can do about it. So she stays still.

“Do you know what it’s like to only remember your birthright with- with rage? How as much as I want to see more of Krypton, I have to suppress every memory because it’s laced with the impulse to destroy? Like I’m not allowed to feel anything else. I have control of my body now, but there's no getting rid if the memories.”

“Sam, I’m so sorry,” Kara says. Hearing her voice, Lena wonders if she would understand because of her red kryptonite experience. If she does, she doesn't say so. Instead, she echoes what Lena is thinking.

"I had no idea."

“I couldn’t tell either of you, for a number of reasons. But what I’m saying right now is that you don’t get to shut me out. Not when you’ve both had the audacity to give me hope.”

“Hey,” Lena says, trying to get between them. “It’s my fault, Sam. I- I should’ve told you. I promised I would keep you updated, and I didn’t because I didn’t want to involve you in this any further. You’ve already been doing too much for us. Kara has no idea that I lied to you.”

“At the very least,” Sam says, looking more tired than Lena has ever seen her. “Let me have the option of bailing out your stupid asses.”

Lena bites back the urge to enumerate the risks of letting that happen.

“It counts as an emergency,” Sam adds, as if sensing her impulse. “You don’t just get to save the world while keeping those who care about you in the dark.”

She turns to Kara again.

“I think you should really talk to your sister.”

* * *

Lena isn’t quite sure why Kara has been looking at her like she's a pebble in her boots. They have been working quietly, making repairs and necessary recons on their thwarted mission. She doesn’t know until when she can take it.

“Hey Luthor,” Kara starts, placing a repair sealant back into its drawer. “Listen, I’m sorry about the transmitter.”

She floats and lands in front of Lena and her deck. She had been working on a way to keep the nanobots on the bearer’s person. If she thought of this sooner, Kara would not have been dragged into Nightvale without the protective suit. They were lucky there was no kryptonite involved.

Kara, for her part, persists. She crosses her arms, stands with feet apart in a stance too much like Superman’s. She stays frozen until Lena removes her welding mask.

“Are you okay?”

It was so soft, Lena had to look up to make sure the voice came from the same body. She was so sure she braced herself enough for whatever Kara had to say. But she didn’t, couldn’t have prepared for this. It would’ve been the bare minimum from anyone else, but everything that oscillates between them unveils it for what it is—a kindness.

“I guess,” She manages to say. “I’m sorry, Kara.”

Kara dips her head down, trying to catch Lena’s line of sight. “For what, though?”

 _Geez._ Good question.

“For keeping things from you.”

“That’s not what I—

But as if she had not heard Kara, Lena presses on. “If I told you we were playing with time, with a future, we would’ve anticipated that. You don’t exactly have a shortage of multiverse travelling contacts. We would’ve at least prepared more equipment. Maybe then, we wouldn’t have lost the transmitter for nothing.”

Kara looks at her intensely then. There’s nothing Lena wouldn’t give to know what she’s thinking.

“It wasn’t for nothing,” Kara says in almost a whisper. It would’ve been easy to take that as a nod to Ayo’s implications of safekeeping. But when Kara uncrosses her arms and proceeds to lean her back on the wall, their eyes find each other. It’s kind of insane. Lena swallows, as if there’s anything else she can do.

“Fear, if you must,” Kara says, still watching Lena. All the while just watching. “ _Fear well, but fear knowing that your hand is in mine. To remember, after all, is to love. And I remember everything, everything with you._ _”_

When, just literally when did Kara earn the right to quote anything quite possibly more intimate than love songs and poems? It registers somewhere in the middle that it’s the letter they read together in Nightvale. Still, Lena asks in order not to combust.

“What?”

“The letter,” Kara says. “Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten Levi and Sayid?”

As if now only realising the weight of what she’s said, Kara glares at the ground, like she’d rather drill a hole into it using her skull. She schools herself, suddenly breaking into a goofy smile. It does very little to dilute the air she has dared to charge between them. It’s her fault really.

“We don’t know yet if that was a failure,” says Kara. “Jury’s still out for Ayo’s word. What I’m trying to say is that in any case, at least we can say we had an experience. I mean. Rooms with no doors? Secretly coded letters disguised as books during the war? Children who aren’t really children? Unlimited snacks?”

Lena manages to laugh instead of wailing. How dare this Kryptonian throw around stupid words that somehow end up being the best.

“But,” Kara says, still leaning on that damn wall like a model putting her money where her mouth is. Ridiculously stupid, pretty mouth. “Remember when you were ready to blow your last battery to make sure I escaped with the transmitter?”

There it is. It’s what Kara’s been wanting to talk about since they woke up in that bed together. _Together. Their bed._

“Remember going all sacrificial lamb?”

Lena sighs, finding the welding deck’s pole with her back so that they’re proper facing each other.

“I’m sorry I-

“No, I don’t mean- It’s not something to apologise for. It’s just...”

Kara drifts forward and settles in front of Lena then. As if proximity will help her find the words. “You have to know that my heart stopped.”

“I’m not the one with super hearing here. I wouldn’t have known.”

“It’s not funny, Luthor. You can’t just do things like that.”

“And you can’t just expect us to make easy choices and pluck transmitters every other day.”

“Then you have to know that was not an easy choice.”

Before either of them seem to know it, Kara’s hand is upon her, moving wisps of hair that Lena didn’t realise were in the way. The pads of her fingers barely even graze her flesh yet they leave a trail that will no doubt cradle her in the night. That it was familiar only made it unbearable. She can still remember how they felt against the corner of her lips back in Nightvale.

“It’s not just something you can throw at me like we’re in an improv class.”

It takes a while for her to remember what in the gates of hell Kara is still yapping about.

“A warning would’ve been nice," Kara says, dropping her hand. It was almost criminal how cold that movement left her. "I mean, we should’ve at least talked about it being an option before.”

Neither of them has raised their voice, but something is definitely getting out of hand. Something Lena can no longer get a grip on. Still, she acts like she can. The alternative might as well be the apocalypse.

“Fine,” Lena forces out. Anger is familiar territory. It’s the only way she can get through this conversation sober. “Let’s talk about the option now. When it comes to a choice between me and saving the world, I have to know you won’t think twice. You _will_ choose the world."

Kara’s brows struggle to meet in a way that reminds Lena of a kicked puppy.

“What? You said you needed a warning.”

She can only watch as Kara crosses her arms again as if to block herself from the blows.

“If it’s going to be that hard for you,” Lena says, sticking it out. “Maybe we should set some boundaries.”

Boundaries are the last thing Lena wants. Not when kicked puppies would need emergency snacks and snuggles and maybe even kisses. She tries not to follow that train of thought, but Kara is making it very hard. Lena had to turn away.

“You don’t know what you’re asking of me, Luthor.”

 _Tell me_ , Lena wanted to scream. The second she might have gained the modicum of guts to do so, she turns, and Kara is gone.

* * *

When the walls are no longer recoiling from Kara’s early clock out, Lena finds herself walking along her aisle of old projects. She stops right at what could only be the cause for this detour. When she unsheathes the device, an image of Kara’s ridiculously curious face pops in her head.

_Damn it._

She has called it a toaster once, and Lena could not unsee it. It is, of course, obvious that it’s not a kitchen appliance. It’s something she needs to give another shot is what it is. She had thought about it on the anniversary of Jack’s death weeks before their trip to the Nightvale. But now that she’s nearly died in such a time and space, she might just be ready to do more than think about it.

Ayo said it took a millennia to know what they know about seeing the future and judging when and how to interfere. Lena doesn’t have the luxury of forever to figure it out. But one method she’s learned in her brief not-forever is that in order to see the future, you must read the past. If before, she thinks that sifting through her memories can help with the renewable energy project, now she’s become certain it’s indispensable.

However, the implications do not escape Lena. Humans do not keep exact records of events. Otherwise, there would be no difference between one person and another. It was one thing to arrange our memories in a narrative that serves us. It was entirely another to see things as they actually happened. That ability to see that is a form of unexplored and unparalleled power. 

Looking at the deceptively small device, she realises she didn’t fail at this because it was impossible to look into someone’s brain imprints. She failed on purpose because having that much power is beyond terrifying.

* * *

The Luthor didn’t seem as tortured as she was about their time in Nightvale. As much as that feels like her insides are being pulled out, Kara is a little relieved. If Lena doesn’t feel the same way about everything happening between them, then it might just be easier to set boundaries.

There’s a lot about her talk with both Sam and with Lena that she needs to figure out, but there’s one thing she _can_ do something about. When she drives by Alex’s apartment though, she doesn’t hear any signs of her. A quick X-ray sweep shows that her sister is out. It’s a Friday night. She could be anywhere. If she’s not on field duty, she could be playing pool with a bunch of friends.

It becomes painfully obvious to Kara then that she doesn’t even know who Alex hangs out with anymore. She decides to park within earshot and catch some sleep. She hasn’t been able to ever since they returned from the Nightvale. Just when she’s brushing against the fringes of sleep, her laptop goes off with a single, piercing notification. It’s only then that she remembered the email she sent to Luthor almost immediately after she walked out this morning

_**Kara:** **I’m sorry I walked out.**_

Lena’s response took the entire day to arrive. Judging by the sharp quip, she knows the woman is online right now, expecting an exchange.

_**Lena:** **That was hardly walking.**_

She tries not to imagine her typing while at work, the soft glow from her phone and her work lamp playing across her fair skin.

_**Kara:** **Okay sorry I left in the speed of light.**_

_**Lena:** **Hmm. Idk. You’re going to need to make it up to me**_

_**Kara:** **I just need a few days to think.**_

_**Lena:** **About what?**_

_**Kara:** **Boundaries.**_

Lena doesn’t respond then. Kara feels the sudden urge to return to the lab in the speed of light. She gives the boundaries thing another go.

_**Kara:** **We can regroup about the next transmitter when I get back.**_

Still, no response. Kara sighs, thinking. Until, of course, Lena eventually ignores her message and says,

_**Lena:** **Make a wish.**_

_Oh. Right_. It’s 11:11 pm. Lena remembers.

Before Kara can pick apart the meaning of Lena remembering little details about her, she realises that Alex’s apartment is still empty. Kara doesn’t know about the Alex she’s been distanced from, but the Alex she knew hates going home past midnight. Even if it meant she'd have no fun. Calling was out of the question. What if Alex is in the middle of an important mission?

In any case, there’s a chance Alex might not be that far away. It doesn’t take long before she grasps the sound of her sister’s heart beat. The spike in her heart rake has Kara all but breaking out of her van to find Alex. It might be an actual emergency. At the risk of not interfering with a field operation, she steels herself to call the DEO. But just then, the beats come twice as racy in a way that doesn't suggest fear. Having anchored to Alex’s heart beat, she can hear her voice too. Or the raspy morsels of it. Is she out of breath? She strains herself to listen further until inevitably, regrettably, she realises what her sister is in the middle of.

 _Holy. Shit._ Kara immediately scrambles to put her lead glasses on. _Ew._ As much as she wanted to know who Alex is with, it was too much. She curses loudly when she flings the glasses off the desk. Once she’s able to pick it up and put it on. The noises finally leave her alone.

Of all the things that she could forget, it’s the fact that Alex is still a warm-blooded human being who sometimes engages in activities Kara would rather not live knowing about. She manoeuvres Streaky to the opposite direction of wherever her sister’s heartbeat was coming from. As she pushes the gas, she tries not to think about how Alex’s _companion_ had a familiar heart beat.

* * *

The morning Sam left National City is the morning Kara finally returned to the lab. It took every sorry muscle in her to focus on saying goodbye to Sam while ignoring Lena’s attempts at pleasantries. It was ridiculous. 

Sam didn’t seem out of the loop, but she looked just about ready to let them deal with it like the adults that they claim they are. She found herself wishing the other Kryptonian could stick around a little longer to stand like a referee or something. If that meant she gets to call them out on being childish someday, so be it.

When Sam finally left, Lena kept darting glances at her like she wanted to have The Talk™ but would rather swallow a test tube. Kara got the feeling that she miscalculated just how ready she is to do this. Maybe she should’ve asked for more than a few days off.

It did not help that Kara’s last paycheque entailed filling in the gaps for Nia’s cover story about the Luthor. To distract herself, she took on a monitoring job for Starhaven’s new trading routes. The humans at the border control were lax enough lately, that Kara was practically useless. It entailed a lot of time just watching surveillance and encrypted GPS overlaps. Hardly exciting. Nearly all of that time, Kara sat there thinking about The Luthor Situation.

All that time and she’s still not prepared to see her. Not when she’s in the flesh now looking like the way she does. When Lena finally gets the guts to start, she walks from the other side of the main terminal. A woman on a mission. The sight makes Kara swallow. She stops barely an arms length from Kara.

“I don’t want you to think,” she begins, “That I don’t get it. I just was never used to anyone caring. I was so focused on making you trust me, that it never occurred to me to weigh how much I should trust you. I thought it was enough to trust that you would do the right thing for our mission. But that’s lumping you in with all the other people who I know would protect interests above my life. And I’m sorry. I’m-

Kara does not, could not let Lena Luthor go on apologising, so she tugs her into an embrace. It’s been years since Kara has had a proper, warm hug, so really, this might just be her resolving her lack of physical contact. When Lena moves to pull away out of disbelief, Kara doesn’t let her. Eventually, she can feel Lena easing into it. Not unlike a cat, she presses her face into the curve of Kara’s neck.

“I missed you,” Lena whispers softly, no doubt knowing Kara can hear her. 

And Kara does. She hears everything. The feel of her own pulse moving against Lena’s nose. The rush of Lena’s blood to her heart or _from_ her heart was it? She might as well trade all knowledge of basic anatomy for the chance to stay like this.

“Clearly,” Lena says, her lips gently brushing Kara’s neck. “There’s something between us that would make our choices even harder, but maybe it would help to simply define it as something... manageable?”

Yep. Trust Lena Luthor to talk Strategy™ while practically cuddling.

“Um, okay?”

“I mean,” Lena says, pulling away. Kara lets her this time. “Can we be friends?”

Kara looks up making a show of thinking about it. It’s to ease the tension more than anything, but it _does_ give her something to think about. Something about the limits of the word is both dubious and exciting.

In the end, the verdict rests on how those big green and blue eyes land on hers. The Luthor has that shy look that Kara once suspected was an act. It isn’t, of course, and she tries not to give away how much it kills her every single time. She wants them to be hugging again and maybe something else, but she manages to restrain her hands, and give Lena a cheeky smile instead.

“Friends,” she says, testing out the word. “I’d like that.”

It begins to dawn on them, once again, where they’re standing. In the lab. Where they’re supposed to be preparing for their next transmitter extraction. The burning world, once again, waits on them. Fuelled by the rush of a reunion, Kara and Lena get back to work.

* * *

Later, before she can try to get some sleep, Kara clears her laptop of data from her recent work. Lena knows Kara has been feeding deliberate intel to Catco, but she's still nervous what she'd think of the article they both knew was due today. If Lena has read it yet, she didn’t mention it. When Kara finally goes online, she sees the fruits of a Catco paycheque. Of course. Only Nia Nall would reference Star Wars in the headline.

**“Lena Luthor : A New Hope”**

**by Nia Nal**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I imagine there must be a big elephant in The CWSG writers' room—mostly the fact that Kara would literally give up the world for a chance at saving Lena.
> 
> Anyway, thank you again for reading! I hope you’re in safe spaces. In any case, I hope this little chapter is a pocket of comfort. To make up for being slow with the updates, lemme at least share the title of the next chapter: The Falling In Love Montage (Yes, named after that sapphic book).


	12. The Falling In Love Montage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Streams of (whipped) consciousness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m so sorry for disappearing without managing expectations properly. So. Much. Happened lol. I even lost access to my old Twitter so I made a new one: ChaoticVirgo2
> 
> On the bright side, I’m still alive and can still keep up with more Supercorp adventures.
> 
> Fun fact: The chapter title is from the sapphic novel The Falling In Love Montage by Ciara Smyth
> 
> Lesser Fun fact: I share the same birthday as Kara Zor-el (September 22, National City Time), Batgirl (Gotham time), and both Bilbo and Frodo Baggins (Shire time). They all fall on the first day of fall, also known as the estimated September Equinox for 2021. Doesn’t really mean anything except I share a bday with fictional dorks.

**I. The Last of Summer (Lena)**

National City has no summer. At least not the kind that makes the streets sweat or drives teenagers outside with layers of sunscreen that pass for clothing. It was still so chilly on most nights that the transition from spring to summer and summer to autumn would go unnoticed if not for the dates that mark them. Not that Kara and Lena would notice had summer drawn to a close more abruptly. They spent most of their time in Lena’s cave.

Working with Kara Danvers has been simultaneously everything and nothing at all like Lena imagined. On the one hand, she’s brilliant. They managed to take two transmitters sooner than she anticipated, almost making up for not knowing what happened to the first.

On the other hand, Kara Danvers can be insufferably baffling. There’s hardly any telling if she’s doing it deliberately. It didn’t help that her inscrutable meandering is perhaps a side effect of their sort of detour to goodness knows where. 

The other day, Kara made coffee looking every bit like she needed it, except when Lena ambled in, the Kryptonian shoved the mug into the nearest depository, straightened her lab coat, and sped out of the pantry. She had cursed then after the air disturbed by Kara’s rush lapped against her bare shoulders. There _should_ be nothing remotely strange about Lena walking into the pantry. She had done nothing but shed her own lab coat off. Yet it was enough to drive Kara away. Well, it being the morning, Lena might have given her limbs a stretch. Perhaps something about that- _Could it be_ \- _No_.

The next day, Kara seemed to have regained whatever it took for her logic to function. Lena suspected it had something to do with the Kryptonian trying very hard to look anywhere but her way.

“I already made coffee,” Lena ventured. “You can just pour if you want some.” 

Kara hesitated. She seemed to take her chances, their eyes finally meeting. Lena had kept her lab coat on just in case the show of skin actually bothered the woman. It was a conceited assumption at worst and a rather ridiculous theory at best. Given how close their bodies got to each other in the morning spars, the skin couldn’t possibly be unsettling. However, irrefutably, Kara relaxed at the sight of Lena’s covered arms. This is _not_ good.

“Thanks,” Kara said, sounding grateful for more than just the coffee.

“The coffee.” Lena gestured to the counter where the steaming consumables were propped on.

“Right.” Kara poured some into a cup somehow sloppily, causing a few droplets to stray. She shot the contents into her mouth, the scalding heat having no effect on her tongue of steel. When Kara left the pantry, without superspeed this time, Lena was left wondering why she never factored that into her notes on Kryptonian anatomy. Given the right sense of control and precision, that tongue can withstand a lot of things. It can _do_ a lot of things. It took Lena a while to realize where her mind hurtled to before she could stop.

_This is not good at all._

A week later, Lena made the mistake of playing Claire de Lune at full volume while working on one of the extractors. From the other bay, she heard Kara laugh, sounding nothing short of judgemental. She might have even groaned. “Seriously?”.

The Kryptonian would no doubt find an opportunity to use this to win an argument. She would call her an old lady to pressure her to go with her more “innovative” ways of doing things. By innovative, she just means she should be allowed to eat Belly Burger takeout in their workspace.

As she predicted, the next time she opened her Spotify, there’s a playlist ominously titled “Just Luthor Things”. She clicked on it, almost expecting Snoop Dogg to start narrating Animal Planet. It wouldn’t be the first time Kara played a prank on her. Instead, she blinked at the carefully curated and arranged classical pieces. It turned out she liked Amy Turk’s harp cover of Claire de Lune better. But what left Lena’s mouth hanging open, was how each of the succeeding classic pieces was labeled:

**_Gaspard de la Nuit_ ** **by Ravel:** When you realize too late you’ve had too much coffee   
**_Symphony No. 1 in D Major_ ** **by Maller:** Every time you realize you’re wrong and Kara is right

**_A Little Prayer_ ** **by Evelyn Glennie:** When you dodge Sam’s calls cos she’s also right

**_La Mer_ ** **by Debussy:** When you feel like brooding like a victorian vampire for absolutely no reason

**_Romance for Violin No. 2 in F major_ ** **by Beethoven:** When you imagine yeeting your board members cos you won’t accept my offer to do it irl

**_Piano Sonata in E minor_ ** **by Florence Price:** When you keep forgetting how far you’ve come

**_Cantata BWV 82, Ich habe genug_ ** **by JS Bach:** When you chase me after I leave crumbs in the lab but can’t cos you have no superspeed

**_Fantasy for Piano and Orchestra_ ** **by Nadia Boulanger:** When you beat someone at chess but have to act surprised

It went on like that for at least a dozen more tracks. Basically an almost frighteningly observant index of Lena’s predicaments. It was infuriating. It was… sweet. It was the closest thing Kara’s been to admitting she’s worried. And so she took it for what it is, keeping it like a rare fossil in her private museum. Now that she’s getting closer to finishing her “toaster”, it wouldn’t hurt to make new memories for future indulgent playbacks.

One time too many, it crossed her mind to hug the prickly woman the way they did many nights back. The sheer effort to keep her arms to herself almost winded her ever since the playlist. So did the effort to keep her elation from Sam on the phone. Lena had a feeling that in hearing about Kara’s antics, Sam would encourage a train of thoughts Lena could _not_ afford to follow. More than anything, Lena had a feeling Kara would rather she not mention this. Like, ever.

* * *

**II. September Equinox aka First Day of Fall (Lena)**

Somehow, that still managed to be the least strange thing Kara did. In the afternoon before their extraction in Guangzhou, they had time to kill. The alien suggested going to a panda sanctuary. Lena never could’ve imagined spending an entire morning trying not to get caught spying on pandas. “Our suits can turn us invisible, remember?” Kara had said as if that makes the whole thing less absurd.

And no, not _that_ invisible, but she wasn’t exactly wrong. In addition to the nanoflage, they did manage to install heat signature masking on both their suits. Technically, staying low key wouldn’t be too much trouble. But what worried Lena was how Kara asked to see the pandas so nonchalantly. It’s almost as if they weren’t in China to steal a multi-billion dollar piece of technology from a multi-billion dollar corporation. If it had been any other time, Lena would have enjoyed the scene. Because what were pandas if not fat, drunk raccoons?

To her relief, they had succeeded in stealing without much difficulty. The transmitter, not the pandas. She had to admit, going home with one less transmitter to worry about almost made up for that unnecessary detour. The increasingly tangerine leaves have outlined the path to their- _her_ lab entrance by the time they got back. Something about Kara cleaning the heaps without using superspeed reminded her of a particularly uncooperative panda wrestling with fallen bamboo shoots. It stilled Lena’s heart. Everything might go according to plan after all.

But in the late hours of the night, Lena found herself tossing. They were approaching their goal faster than she anticipated. Once they’re done, she and Kara would be over. She would never know why Kara does what she does. Or what the Kryptonian expects to achieve by constantly teetering between dumb and genius. There are a few things Lena has let herself have. Perhaps living with one less mystery can be one of these things. So with little protest, she let thoughts of Kara keep her from sleeping a little while longer. It’s not like it was up to her anyway.

It was before midnight when she got the text. Nobody else would dare contact her at this time. But it couldn’t be Kara who only ever reached her via encrypted emails. When Lena finally rolled to the edge of the bed, the screen blinked at her, telling her she was not wrong. It _wasn’t_ Kara.

**Luthor?**

It was an unregistered number, but something about the way it was given to her made her commit it to memory. 

**Lena: Agent Danvers?**

**AD: Just Alex.**

**AD: Can you greet Kara happy birthday for me?**

_Oh._ It was not unusual for Kara to go through the entire spectrum between playful and somber in a single day. But throughout their trip, in any of Kara’s varying moods, she remained distant. It’s as if Kara was simultaneously hit with nostalgia and pain and she didn’t want to give Lena any chances of probing. Lena sighed, giving Alex a warm affirmative without asking for any explanation as to why Alex can’t just greet Kara herself. Lena figured Alex would appreciate that. She did.

Despite her every limb protesting further movement, Lena moved to her secure laptop to shoot Kara an email.

**Lena: You didn’t tell me it was your birthday**

**Kara: Lol.**

**Kara: I would’ve brought it up in case you said no to the panda trip. But you said yes anyway.**

**Lena: I was going to say no, but...**

**Kara: I know**

Lena leaned back, the cold back of her computer chair giving a welcome jolt. _What does that even mean?_ The thread grows with a new addition. Lena didn’t have to wonder any longer.

**Kara: I have something to confess.**

**Lena: Should I be worried?**

**Kara: When Winn and I were scanning all your secure files, I found a canceled private appointment with the panda sanctuary. I didn’t think much of it until I discovered you only ever cancel something if it’s for yourself.**

It took an entire minute for Lena to understand what Kara was trying to say. And another minute to assure herself that she was reading this right.

**Lena: Oh. But it’s your birthday.**

**Kara: Dw I did it for myself too, Luthor.**

It _was_ getting late. Lena can wonder about that later.

**Kara: Geez. We were going to China anyway. It was my birthday. There was no way I would pass up on seeing pandas.**

**Kara: They’re basically drunk raccoons.**

**Lena: Right?**

**Kara: Oh look it’s 11:11 make a wish.**

**Lena: I thought we’ve established it’s** **_your_ ** **birthday.**

**Kara: I already made a wish.**

It was easy. Too easy. She could have asked Kara what she wished for. But somehow that felt like putting her foot where she shouldn’t. There were lines she drew by calling what they have a friendship. They’ve already been stepping a little out of bounds as it is.

**Lena: Happy birthday, Kara Zor-el (panda emoji)**

* * *

**III. October (Kara)**

It was what Lena described it. “Manageable”. Not by a wretched mile. _Friends?_ _What was Lena thinking?_ Kara clearly was not equipped for any kind of relationship. Not even the kind that’s meant to make working together easier. Ultimately, it was the earnestness that killed Kara every damn day. Lena would try these little things as if to apply whatever she’s googled or read from An Idiot’s Guide to Making Friends.

Once or twice she placed a hand on Kara’s forearm to placate her frustration with a particularly stubborn string of codes. If the goal was to distract her, it worked. The poor woman thought Kara’s guffaw was to make fun of her attempt. She had only reminded the Kryptonian of a little seal.

Once, she had walked out from the fortress after a particularly draining argument with Kal. Kara found a patch of ice to nap on, only to be woken by an awkward flipper on her belly. She’d like to think the sea puppy had sensed her ire and only wanted to comfort a new friend.

Not unlike what Lena tried to do with her flipper— _hand_ on Kara’s arm. Not unlike what she did on occasion ever since she christened what was “clearly between them” a friendship. She would ask Kara about her day, going so far as to mention details about herself if only to coax similar information. It was a futile bargain. Worse still, she would give Kara some space, but let herself get caught staring. Staring very much in a way that makes Kara wonder if Lena knew. Does she know that burning gazes don’t lend much in the way of friendship?

All things considered, the Luthor was doing a better job as an amateur. Kara, who used to have a wealth of experiences with friendship, was useless. She was always going to be useless standing a little too close to Lena. 

Granted, she wanted to give the woman her first proper friendship if that’s what this is. She really did. Every time she learned about a brilliantly kind thing Lena did for others, she would simply not let the warmth grow into anything beyond platonic admiration. Sometimes, when the air got too thick the way it was in Nightvale, Kara blamed it on the opening of spatial veils she could’ve sworn to sometimes feel pushing against her. In her mind and perhaps even Lena’s, it checked out.

Except every time the Luthor removed her lab coat or jacket or anything that can stop Kryptonian eyes from wandering, Kara’s reservations against friendship can be pinned down to a very specific point on Lena’s body—collarbones. Try having platonic feelings around _that_. Try forgetting everything great about a woman when she wields the epitome of bone and skin combination like it’s nothing. When drifting eyes any lower might as well be a stake to the heart. It was kind of ridiculous. Devastating, really.

It was reasonable for Kara to demand that they not be sacrificial idiots, but she shouldn’t have expected that the resulting friendship can deter complications. Besides Kara acting like a hormonal teenager, there is still that matter of acting like an infected Kryptonian. There were times, rare as they were when Lena talked to Kara only to be rejected by the shadow of Red Kryptonite. 

Sometimes it would be as blunt as the edges of an ill-placed quip, or as inconspicuous as a cold shoulder. She saw the acid for what it was yet it still won where it counted. The benefit of foresight didn’t do much to help their friendship. Kara _really_ should not have let those green eyes talk her into it.

Having Nia as a friend (If friends who lie to protect other friends count) must have tricked Kara into believing she can perform the same function. Sam, too, seemed to like her enough. Kara realized too late that they like her only because they weren’t the ones commissioned to be around her almost every day.

So Kara jokes. She joked and played pranks and teased Lena. It wasn’t just to dispel the tension whenever it felt like some line would be crossed. Maybe if Lena could see just how moody and playful Kara can be, she’d stop taking the spurns and cold shoulders personally. It sounded like a reasonable plan. But when the woman left after taking a particularly scalding comment, Kara knew she messed up. At the end of the day, the Luthor is just like every billionaire she’s trying to take down was what Kara said.

_See_. Messed up. She might as well have said she’s a Luthor through and through. It was late when Lena returned.

“Kara?”

Kara was in the narrow hallway separating Lena’s high school experiments, and her grown-up stuff, but she didn’t make a sound. Lena tried again. Kara didn’t move. She had a sudden urge to laugh, imagining herself to be a raccoon biding its time. Is this how they get away with pilfering kitchens? _Focus, Kara._ The weight in each of the echoing steps reminded her there was a canyon carved between them. A chasm that could only be Kara’s fault.

When Lena didn’t get an answer a third time, Kara knew then that she called out to her not because she wanted them to talk. Lena wanted to make sure she was alone. When Kara heard the terminal seat sink under a resigned body, followed by broken sobs from a throat that must’ve already been weeping, she knew she was right. Kara knew she had to try harder.

* * *

**IV. Halloween (Kara)**

The pager, which she somehow left in Lena’s microwave went off in morse code. It wasn’t Alex. Kara knew because it was the obligatory pattern she taught her cousin to send once a year. She doubted Kal-el has bothered learning morse code. Just the one phrase—Stronger Together.

To which Kara thinks. _Meh._

“Luthor.”

The woman perhaps couldn’t hear her over all the soldering. Sparks flew where the welding rod met metal. Even in overalls, face concealed by a clunky mask, the shape of Lena did not pale in contrast to the bursts of light.

“Luthor!”

The welding stopped at the part where it absolutely did not need to stop. Kara smirked just as Lena went back to work. It was absolutely not that Lena could not hear her. She’s just no longer taking Kara’s shit. _Good,_ Kara thought.

“I have to be in Metropolis tomorrow. Hey, Luthor, stop.”

It was a particularly delicate transmitter shell that she would never let Kara laser and superspeed her way through. So of course, Lena kept working. Given how much she already let Kara distract her for less, Kara understood. That didn’t mean she was done.

“Lena!”

At that, the Luthor did stop. She turned off the machine, mask, and hair giving way to her face. 

_Jesus_ . _I mean Rao, I mean—_

Kara scrambled to correct her thoughts but dropped them. If a rugged Lena was going to keep looking at her like that—irritated, fond, hopeful—she would need all the gods anyway. She had been looking at her like that since she apologized that night. Kara had gone to her and dropped to a kneel. Like the little Fortress seal, she placed a hand on the Luthor’s knee. It didn’t fix everything, but it was enough.

Kara pulled herself from her meandering to find Lena standing before her, no longer in pain. Just at the end of her wits perhaps. Which is fair considering well, Kara.

“Yes? 

Looking at Lena’s mouth, Kara feared she might just do something stupid and ruin everything.

“What do you want that can’t wait?”

Kara had to bite her tongue. 

“I-

Of course, she’d forgotten what she came to bug her about.

“You...”

“My cousin needs me. I need to be in Metropolis tomorrow.”

She drew close, worried. “An emergency? What’s wrong?”

“Of course it’s not an emergency.”

Lena narrowed her eyes. “Did you just interrupt me for something you could’ve asked me during break time?”

“It’s Saturday, Lena. You’re supposed to be taking a break the entire day.” 

“What did Superman need?”

“Just a family thing.” It wasn’t a lie.

“Oh,” said Lena, something occurring to her then. “Tomorrow?”

“Yeah, if you don’t need me.”

They stare at each other. It was Kara’s fault of course. She was always the one who dug her own grave, used words that can imply a wealth of meaning she absolutely had no business implying.

“Do you observe,” Lena began. “All Souls’ day?”

“I’m not obliged to. The Danvers are Jewish.”

“But…” Lena said, likely sensing that Kara had more to share.

“But I used to do Halloween with Alex at M’gann’s. Just you know, for fun. But when that no longer became an option, my cousin started making a little ceremony out of it with me in the—

_The fortress_ was what she almost said. Lena didn’t look like she needed any clarification.

“I got him to bring his geeky board games. He’d make me light candles if we had nothing to do.”

She could’ve ended it there, but Lena didn’t speak.

“He thinks I can heal better if I commemorate them or something,” Kara said, surprised she managed to say this much.

“Kara,” said Lena, not needing to ask who _they_ are.

Kara moved away. It wasn’t a flinch, but Lena’s face fell anyway.

“Would it help to bring Sam with you?”

“What? No, this isn’t… my thing. If anything, I just do it so Kal would stop looking mopey and guilty this time of the year.”

Lena didn’t let Kara reduce this to a joking matter.

“I can make Jess cover for Sam at the L Corp crisis in Metropolis.”

“There’s a crisis?”

“Sam was going to handle it all weekend but I’m sure she’d rather be there for you than fix some bureaucratic mess.”

“The Fortress,” she said, no longer willing to pretend Lena doesn’t know about the place. “It doesn’t exactly hold the best data about Krypton. When I first came there, Kalex, basically our Siri, detected my Kryptonian blood. Apparently, the minute an heir touches anything inside, they’re automatically uploaded with information. It was… kind of both terrific and terrible.”

Understanding twisted Lena’s face. After what Sam revealed to them, they know it wouldn’t be wise to encourage the hatred that still ran in her veins. There’s more, but Lena didn't need to know. Lena being Lena, she tucked Kara’s hesitation away for a later harvest.

And Lena being Lena, saw an opportunity in the inconvenience.

“There _is_ something you can do for her and for me in Metropolis,” Lena said. “Might as well.”

“Is Sam trying to get you to come for Halloween?”

Kara meant it as a joke, but Lena crossed her arms and said, “Ruby, her daughter wants to go trick or treating. Sam already made up for not being able to go. She promised Ruby a later trip.”

The Luthor angled her body in a way that Kara could not look away. Maybe she really _did_ know the extent of her power over Kara.

“But since you’re going to be in Metropolis…”

“No, Lena. No. Absolutely not.”

The Luthor didn’t seem to find any reason to back down. Kara threw her hands in the air before letting them hang uselessly by her side.

“What makes you think I’m responsible enough to handle kids?”

“Don’t you want to meet another Kryptonian? Ruby’s really cool, I promise.”

There’s something in the way Lena always talked about Ruby like the kid was a fully grown adult. It melted the barricades of ice in Kara’s chest. Still, she just _had_ to be difficult.

“I’m already babysitting Kal.”

“Tomorrow you are. Why not take tonight off, too. For Ruby.”

It was almost negligible, but Kara heard it—the faint disruption in Lena’s heart rate that picks up whenever she’s trying to hide something. 

“Are you trying to get rid of me? What are you up to?”

The Luthor smiled. Kara _really_ should have been used to the sight by now.

“Just family things,” Lena said.

“What family things?”

“Oh, you wouldn’t want to know. I’m a Luthor, remember?”

Kara flinched, but Lena’s smile only grew. Right. They were at the point where she could joke about it. She wanted to ask if she’s off to visit her family’s respective graves, but she didn’t want to rub salt to a wound she caused. She studied Lena’s face for signs of hurt.

Her inspection, though, was cut short by the sound of a child laughing. When she whirled around to look, there was nothing.

“Did you hear that?”

Lena was also looking around to search. “The laugh?”

“Do you have a child you haven’t told me about?”

Kara strained her ears to listen again. There’s nothing. When she opens her eyes, there’s Lena, already staring, already hoping to God Kara can tell her they’re not losing their minds. If the laugh sounded a little too familiar, Kara didn’t tell Lena that.

“Happy Halloween, I guess.”

* * *

One day, Kara would look back at that weekend and recall what exactly happened. That day has yet to be gleaned considering how much of what was happening went by like a blur. She can remember, for instance, the sense of loss and wonder upon meeting Ruby. She could not, however, recall the stories she kept the kid busy with. She could remember that Ruby missed Lena, but only because somewhere in recesses of her mind, Kara knew she did too.

Ruby dressed as Eleven from Stranger Things, she was sure. The goth version with eyeliner, not the one walking out of the convenience store with Eggos. But Kara couldn’t remember the neighbors they asked (stole) candy from. She couldn't remember whether it was ice cream or pancakes they stopped for on the way back. Did they walk to Sam’s or did she give in to Ruby’s incessant request to fly her home? Did they get in trouble for that? Did she tuck Ruby in or did Sam arrive earlier than expected? She couldn’t know for sure.

All she could remember with clarity was lying alone on Sam’s couch that night, tuning in to National City and shutting the rest of the world out. It didn’t take long to find Alex’s heartbeat. She listened quickly, trying not to linger in case it’s one of _those_ nights. Before she realized it, she had moved on in search of another woman’s heartbeat.

Laying on a soft couch deep in Metropolis, she could hear all the way to the side of the mountain in National City. _Their_ side of the mountain. She could hear Lena turning on the nanoflage of her car, her steps crunching on leaves in the way. She wondered— _hoped,_ really—if the woman was about to go home if she was calling it a day. To no surprise, the steps grew closer instead to the cave’s opening. Kara could hear the latch motors whirring. She extended her hearing just a little closer knowing Lena’s heartbeat would disappear behind the lead-lined lab for Rao knew how long. It was past midnight when she finally moved if only to check her wristwatch. From this entire weekend, it was this that Kara would remember the most—the world going silent from an absence, and her own heart finding no rest.

* * *

Lena had not left the lab. Kara knew because she listened in place of sleeping. When she landed at the Fortress, she did not immediately enter to meet Kal. She had turned around in search before she even realized what she was looking for. No, the sea puppy that reminded her of a certain Luthor was nowhere in sight. In the absence, it hit Kara then just how much this is slipping past her control. She was sure that if she did find the seal, she’d ask it to slap some sense into her with its fat flipper.

Maybe a morning with Kal would be punishment enough for letting things get out of hand. But no. Kal was not insufferable that morning. He didn’t bring any candles to light. He must’ve caught on by now how a human custom for a Kryptonian loss just threw loneliness in her face. It was nice enough of a start to make Kara suspicious.

But Kal kept giving her what she needed—Space. He seemed content without small talk, and she didn’t know how to open her mouth without ruining things. So neither of them did the talking. It was a little more than unsettling because Kara found herself wanting to hear about his latest mission with Barry Allen. Did they get in trouble for using Oliver Queen’s cave without permission? Did he finally ask Lois out?

But when Kara finally opened her mouth, it was only to ask if he brought his deck of Uno cards.

“I’d prefer it if you could… teach me some Kryptonian games.”

She stared at him, not entirely believing the same words were coming out of his mouth. But Kal only looked hopefully right back. Dreading having to ask Kal why he suddenly had an interest, she turned to Kalex. The robot easily 3D printed the pieces for one of the games she used to play in Argo. It took nearly all morning given how little Kal knew of the words, but it was better than his indifference to Kryptonian culture. It was enough to take Kara’s mind off of that one thing she would not dare name.

When the novelty of confusing a 6-ft tall grown up with a children’s game ran out, she found there was not much else that could keep her from thinking of Lena. In fact, it was the sight of Kal that got her there. _Just family things._ Maybe that just meant Lena visited her family’s graveyard. It’s Halloween. All Soul’s Day. Lena isn’t exactly a stranger from grief.

“Why are you laughing?”

It was inappropriate, Kara knew. But her morals were derailed by an image— mass murderers lined neatly next to each other in their graves with the obligatory headstones all starting with the letter L. A cursive L of course. Maybe she’s wrong. Maybe there’s a fancy Luthor mausoleum after all. They couldn’t be any less dramatic.

“Because I’m winning.” She is most definitely not.

“But I’ve taken all your ships.” Kal-el opened his handful of chips from the set for emphasis.

That made her smile more, realizing just now how invested Kal actually is. But it didn’t take long before the gears started again. There was still no sign of Lena’s heartbeat. What could the woman possibly be working on at the lab that she didn’t want Kara to know about? If there was a pressing project, she wouldn’t have encouraged Kara to leave National City. That must be it. That must be why she couldn’t stop thinking about the Luthor. She didn’t miss her. She was just suspicious. She gloated, letting out an even more ill-placed laugh of victory. Kal-el looked up once more, face all twisted.

“Right I was just bluffing,” she explained.

“Are you alright?”

For a moment she considered telling him. But the moment passed like they always do. Like they should, when a Luthor is concerned. She would let him win this round, and then she would go. She wouldn’t wait for her cousin to offer lunch. For the first time in a long time, it’s not because of the rift between them, but because she needed to see what the Luthor was up to. 

* * *

The nanoflaged car was still nesting beside the mouth of the cave. Somehow an ominous sign. When she got in, a sound wave of erratic heartbeats hit her eardrums. Kara was allergic to the sight of crying because of how bad she is at comforting anyone. But this was worse. When she veered to a stop, she saw Lena sitting on the cold tiles, her back against the wall, eyes undoubtedly dry. Like she couldn’t even be bothered to cry.

“Lena?”

Lena didn’t look up. The contraption she must’ve been putting together took all her attention. When Kara allowed her eyes to wander from Lena, she recognized the device almost immediately. It was the project she made fun of when she first got a tour of the lab. It still looked a little like a kitchen appliance, except the wires were connected to a thick monitor. The monitor was then hooked up to a concave nest of sensors. It’s probably meant to be worn like a helmet.

The woman’s muscles tensed under Kara’s touch before Kara even realized she reached for her.

“Pls don’t touch me,” Luthor said without flinching, without looking her way.

Kara’s chest constricted in a way she didn’t expect. But this wasn’t about her. She moved to get up. As soon as she did, a hand clasped around Kara’s wrist, tight, damp, and trembling.

_Don’t leave_ , was what the woman could not say.

“I’ll just get you some water. I’ll be back before you know it.”

It took a while but Lena nodded. Kara superspeeded out and then she walked as quickly as she could back with a glass of water.

“Told you I’ll be back before you know it.”

Lena took it, finally prying her hands away from her head. Her sip quickly turned into huge gulps. With each one, she seemed surprised at her own thirst.

“What happened?”

Kara sank onto the floor, careful to leave a lot of space between them. There, adjacent to Lena, she steeled herself to wait five minutes or maybe even forever when the woman finally spoke.

“I’m sorry,” Lena said. “I was working on this.”

Kara looked in the way of the device.

“Is it not working? Is that why you’re upset?”

“I’m upset because it’s working.”

“Okay sure because _that_ makes sense,” Kara said and then quickly added, “Sorry don’t mind me.”

“No,” Lena said. “It’s great that it’s working but…”

“What does it do?” Though Kara was no longer looking at the device in question. Her focus trailed the drop of sweat trickling down Lena’s jaw.

“I don’t know what to call it yet, but to cut the explanation short, it’s like a Pensieve.”

“Like… in Harry Potter?”

Lena nodded.

“So like… you can see your past?”

Another nod.

It wasn’t exactly an impossible feat. Looking into the past has just been too overlooked for there to be much development in the field. “Huh.”

At the short sound, Lena finally looked at her. “What?”

“It’s just that,” said Kara. “I would’ve expected you to create something that can glimpse into the future.”

“There isn’t really much use for that.”

“You sound like you’ve tried it,” said Kara. Now is not the time to catch Lena in a lie, but it wasn’t exactly easy to pass the opportunity up.

“I _did_ have a glimpse into the future.”

Kara wasn’t expecting this. 

“I’d tell you,” Lena said. “But you wouldn’t believe me and if I provide proof, I’d be revealing a secret that’s not mine to tell.”

Kara definitely wasn’t expecting that. The Luthors were never forthcoming with the truth. Much less the truth that they are lying. Lena was only protecting Nia. It should not have come as a surprise because this was Lena. The same Lena she declared her trust to back in Nightvale. Or has it been Kara who was doing the lying this whole time?

“You saw the past,” she said, gesturing to the device.

“Exactly as they happened,” said Lena, nodding. “Not as I’d imagined or made sense of.”

Kara’s fists tightened, nails biting the inside of her palm. It was almost enough to break her skin of steel. It was all she could do to dig herself in place. The instinct to comfort Lena with a hug or even just a touch on her shoulder was overwhelming. What could be so bad that it left Lena like this? Kara didn’t even want to think about what could’ve happened if she didn’t return to National City earlier than planned.

“How long were you in there?”

“In there? A couple of weeks. Out here? A couple of hours.”

_Rao_.

Their eyes met. Kara recognized the plea, the need to talk about something else. So Kara tried.

“Is this all that you’ve been working on all weekend?”

Lena’s shoulders relaxed, a little color slowly returning to her face.

“No.”

“What then?”

“It’s a surprise,” Lena said, sort of smiling. 

Or at least Kara hoped. Kara didn’t push it. If she was being honest with herself, she would’ve let the warmth bubbling in her chest seep to the rest of her body.

“I love surprises.” She hates surprises. But Lena was finally, finally showing a hint of a smile. Kara would tell her anything.

“Why are you back so soon? Did it not go well?”

“It went _too_ well.”

“And you just wouldn’t have that, would you,” said Lena, almost admonishing.

“I’m back early ‘cause I couldn’t have Luthors lurking around to do ‘family things’.”

“You got me,” Lena said, allowing a raspy laugh that did _some_ things to Kara. 

“I was kidding about that, Lena.”

“What did you really think I was going to do though?”

Lena leaned forward, placing her chin on her palm.

“I- I thought you were going to visit your dead.”

Lena’s smile froze, and Kara already hated herself for it.

“You’re not wrong,” Lena said.

At that, they both looked at the device. Kara found herself tightening her fists again to keep herself from holding Lena. She might have lied about trusting her. But she knew then that she would rather be betrayed in the end than to let anything hurt the Luthor. The realization doused every bit of her with potent terror. If she didn’t open her mouth to ask something technical she would combust. Or punch her way out of the lab’s ceiling. Just reasonable stuff.

Before Kara could ask anything about the device, a laugh erupted from neither of them. For a second, Kara thought Lena wasn’t hearing it but when she looked, Lena had snapped alert, head following the path of echoes. It was not particularly loud but it sure made its rounds in the lab. In its creepy wake, it was the Luthor who spoke first.

“Who _is_ that?”

“ _Who?_ You don’t sound concerned about _how_ you’re even hearing that.”

“I was. When you left, I heard it one more time.”

“So you took the scope,” said Kara, not bothering to hide her awe at Lena’s gut instincts.

“There were particles with charges… not of this world.”

They stare at each other.

“Oh, you have got to be kidding me,” Kara whines.

“I wish.”

“I’m not going back to Nightvale.”

“I don’t think they want us back, Kara. They’re keeping an eye on us and want us to know that.”

“Who do you think Ayo’s been sending?”

Kara snorts. “That was a hundred percent Asha.”

“Oh,” Lena said. “That makes sense.”

“I heard her laugh back… there. Asha was eavesdropping and my super hearing was already working again. I should’ve figured it out the first time I heard it here.”

“Careful now. You might summon her for real if you say her name three times.”

“That can’t work around here.” Then with dread, she added, “It can’t, can it?” 

“Just,” Lena said, looking as if the veil of space around them was about to part. “Stop saying their names.”

They both stood, with Kara wielding the transmatter scope.

“Anything?”

“There’s nothing,” Kara said, having returned from super speeding around the lab.

Lena didn’t seem to be waiting for her confirmation.

“Do you think,” Kara began, walking up to Lena’s side. “It means something’s about to happen?”

“You mean more than usual?”

Kara smiled. “Right. Yeah. We can talk about this tomorrow.”

Kara and Lena kept quiet then, dreading the echoes would return. It didn’t. It was too long a silence though that Kara almost wished the walls would erupt with more spooky sounds.

She chanced a glance at Lena and regretted it almost immediately. Everything seemed to slow, she might as well declare a disturbance in the atmosphere. Lena wet her lips that’s been chapped and dry from disuse. Even with all those months of fighting—fighting her foes, her own gut, her own past, the federal government—all that Kara could be reduced to is this single moment when her eyes followed the movement.

She snapped, out of it, dreading that Lena would realize just how long Kara had been looking at her lips. But when she raises her gaze, Lena’s own is on the device. With the pain of knowing she’s not the comfort Lena needed, Kara realized then that not unlike her, Lena would always bear the weight of her ghosts alone.

“Hey, Lena?”

“Hmm?”

“It’s ok to umm… mourn them.”

“I thought you wouldn’t have me do family things.”

It was an attempt to clear the air. Lena was smirking, but the look on Kara’s face must’ve told her something.

“Oh,” Lena said, her smile faltering. “Why are you being so nice to me?”

It was simple enough a question, but Kara’s face heated up. She shrugged, non-fucking-chalant. It may or may not have taken all her Kryptonian strength. When it was clear Kara wasn’t going to say any more to that, Lena rounded up to her. She tilted her head as if she wasn’t already torturing the Kryptonian enough.

“Hey, Kara?”

Kara froze, fearing that Lena might offer the same fruitless words back to her. She wouldn’t know how to keep herself from snapping if Lena told her that it’s ok to mourn her family, too.

But all Lena said was, “I’m glad you’re here, now.”

_Friends._ Kara can do this. There’s no getting used to the knockout that is Lena’s eyes. Lena’s scent. Lena’s sensibilities. Lena’s everything, really, but she can try.

* * *

Thanks again for reading???

I've lost access to my old twitter since October last year. So I made a new account! You can yell at me here: [ChaoticVirgo2](https://twitter.com/ChaoticVirgo2)


	13. Memento Vivere

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kara takes a predictable but no less galactic blow. For all the hurt/comfort hoes out there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To celebrate No-bangs Supergirl in Season 6, here's like, 11k+ words. The lengthiest update yet. Also a 6-day gap between updates who am I? If I was gone far too long before, it’s because I had to take on extra work. Grad school isn’t going to fund my existence lmao. Now that I’m temporarily back with only 7 chapters left to post, will these softies finally kiss? You can yell at me if this chapter fails you but something definitely happens here. 13 is a lucky number i said what i said.
> 
> I know a lot of this is talking instead of just showing what happened in the field, but in the spirit of compensating for the lack of healthy conversations in the TV show itself, I gave them space to talk it out. I guess it’s me fulfilling my own fantasy of characters being able to process their trauma and hoping it does something for others, too.  
> Either way, I’ll go back to the promised action after a chapter or two. This is just fluff and angst. Umm fluffy angst? like maybe it’s just angsty but there’s bed sharing so it’s fluffy. Get it?
> 
> The chapter title is the opposite of the famous phrase Memento Mori, which means "Remember you must die." Memento Vivere means "Remember you must live."
> 
> Happy reading!

Being anonymous as both The Girl and The Blur has probably let Kara get away with things without much explanation. It’s only in the throes of modifying Lena’s contraptions that the alien details her work. Even then, they weren’t about herself.

Lena had long chalked it up to distrust. The Kryptonian has no business trusting Lena after all. Except were they not in bed, robes shy of being naked, when Kara had said she trusted her?

It was assuring to think that communicating what went wrong in Nightvale could fix their dynamic. Except there were no gears to fix, only potency like fireworks waiting to be lit. Potency that the Kryptonian wittingly or unwittingly pokes.

Sometimes, when they’d work side by side on the terminal, Kara would lean over to see what needs improvement with her builds. Lena would glance up and catch the woman with eyes closed, seemingly inhaling the air around them. If she liked what she could smell, Lena couldn’t- _shouldn’t_ want to know. It has become increasingly clear that Kara is not as unaffected as Lena hoped (or was it feared?). She didn’t know whether to find comfort or horror in all that.

They _really_ should have nothing but scientific interest in each other. But that’s the thing. Lena _is_ a scientist. She needs to know why Kara never parks her van in reverse, or why she insists on living in said van, or why she would rather use the bunsen burner to heat food when her heat vision is right there, or why, instead of being embarrassed at being caught staring, Kara smiles like she knows something Lena doesn’t.

She tried to tell Kara she’d appreciate explanations by offering her own. She would fall into several before Kara can even think to ask for any. Like how she’s always early to the lab because waking up at four gives her time to herself, or how she never actually multitasks because that’s just a productivity myth, or how she only took liquids for breakfast because it somehow helps her adapt laser focus.

Every time, Kara’s eyebrows would shoot up in surprise, before they struggle to meet in a frown. It’s as if she’s giving Kara a headache not too different from her own. But now, on the first morning of the week, they had set for the fourth transmitter, Lena finds that Kara’s reaction has evolved into something else.

“I know you don’t think I trust you,” Kara begins. She begins in that serious tone Lena has come to know as not very serious at all. “Which is of course true, but I wouldn’t mind _not_ knowing the details on why juiced kale for breakfast is a good thing.”

Lena all but stares. Kara finds ways to make a joke out of many things. In the past few months, it gradually sounded like she’s genuinely amused instead of just trying to catch Lena in a lie. It’s never been clearer than just now. Not knowing how else to respond, she gestures for Kara to snap her eyes back on the bay. God knows how volatile the transmitter might still be.

It’s only a few more minutes, with their goggles barely fogged up, hands tinkering around the stabilizing bay, that Lena gives in.

“So... it wouldn’t bother you if I just don’t say anything?”

“Didn’t your family teach you that you can’t just show your cards?” Kara says, not before snorting playfully. “That you have to keep your victim second-guessing?”

It must be because of what Kara has just said, or from Lena’s already wobbly hand. Regardless, the extrapolating drill slips from her. Before she can stoop down to use it as an excuse to avoid Kara’s eyes, the Kryptonian offers it to her, having already fished it from the air.

Great. She forgot about the superspeed when she has an entire notebook dedicated to it.

“You are _not_ my victim,” she snaps, suddenly no longer interested in figuring the alien out. To Kara’s credit, Lena finds only a fading smile when she looks up—the aftermath of realizing just how poor a joke is. She shouldn’t be angry. She’d offered the same jabs at her heritage as a sign that it’s safe for Kara to do the same. Lena doesn’t give the woman a chance to offer any pity, so she keeps explaining.

“I’ve been unlearning them,” Lena says, looking up. On Kara’s face, guilt and confusion are having quite the party.

“What they taught me, I mean. Dr. Hop- my therapist has been helping me.”

“You go to therapy?”

Lena nods. For a moment, she understands Kara’s repulsion for explaining herself. She wills herself to remember that she started this whole argument or whatever it is they’re having.

“Unlearning, huh,” says Kara. “How does that work?”

The genuine curiosity from the Kryptonian is too much that she’s grateful when Kara quickly backtracks. “No, I’m sorry you don’t have to answer that. I- I’m sorry, Lena. I shouldn’t have said that.”

Kara replaces the drill and begins the cadence they’ve developed in closing the lab together over the months. Lena joins not long after, her hand relying on muscle memory to finish the process. Maybe this is over. It didn’t matter that they had much work to do. She won’t let herself get to know an alien after all.

With the stabilizing bay and tools switched off, they find no more excuses to linger. Yet they stand there, unmoving save for Kara’s hands, one kneading the other. Lena watches them. The fingers are long, so long. She imagines what it would be like to be held by them.

“So why do you…” Kara says. Lena is startled and seems to only recall then that the long fingers are attached to a body that comes with a voice, a voice determined to finish this conversation. “Was there something you really needed to ask me? I’m sorry if I keep making you feel like you can’t just do that.”

Lena must have raised an eyebrow because Kara adds, “Like you can’t just ask me things, I mean.”

Kara’s gaze is both so piercing and so guilt-stricken, that Lena can’t help but fear what she knows. Lena was up for most of the night thinking of confronting Kara without giving away the fact that she invaded her private life. Deciding it would be a conversation for when her head is clearer, she turns to leave. “I’m tired. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

“Lena.” An impossibly warm, gentle grip tugs at her arm. She sighs, knowing this can’t wait. They’re bound for the next transmitter in Kaznia anyway.

“Back in our extraction at Auckland,” Lena begins. “I saw the signature you left. There was an obvious give in the transmitter replica we made. You left the same wire tampering in New Delhi, and the same one in Guangzhou.”

Kara looks away, perhaps to brace herself for a confession.

“And I take it you were going to leave the same traces in Kaznia, and Abigam, and-”

“Abidjan.”

Lena blinks at her.

“It’s Abidjan, Lena.”

At the sound of her name, the heat from Kara’s hand makes itself known. She wouldn’t be that surprised if it starts burning her lab coat. She lets her eyes fall on it, merely a vessel of Kryptonian joints. It means nothing. Before she can flinch from the nothing, Kara jerks her hand back, like she only realized just now that it had stayed on Lena’s arm. 

Lena scoffs. “You do know that stealth is the entire point of the gear we built, right?” She wills herself to laugh as if it can cushion their already dubious relationship from further short-circuiting.

“You can be mad at me, you know,” says Kara. “I agreed to this. It’s my responsibility. Clearly, I’ve been irresponsible.”

“Is that what you do when you’re caught?” Lena says, still smiling. “You trick people into thinking you have a sense of accountability by listing your mistakes?”

“Are you telling me it’s not working?”

As usual, Kara finds an opportunity to lighten the air. To mitigate the fall of her own doing. Still, her cheeky smile wavers when Lena’s shoulders droop.

“Kara, I _am_ upset. Is that what you need to hear now?”

When Kara doesn’t say anything, Lena presses on, a fire stoked by something she couldn’t point a finger to.

“I’m upset because I let you know what this means for me. At least part of it. Yet you stepped over it like it doesn't matter what anything means to _me_. I get it. I’m a Luthor and you and the rest of the world will always punish me for it. I’m not asking to be your best friend or anything, but we are on a race here. We still haven’t even figured out what CADMUS wants to do with the transmitters. Clearly, they’re up to something of global scale, there’s no point in being-

Lena gestures vaguely at Kara’s figure hoping it would do for an explanation. 

“I know my having secrets is bothering you, Kara. But I’ll give you access to everything I have when this is over. Passwords, properties. Whatever. I’ll withdraw all the firewalls and let Winn have his way with my data. After we distribute free renewable energy, you can do with me whatever you want.”

Not entirely realizing how that must’ve sounded, Lena watches a blush creep into Kara’s conflicted face.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Lena. I- You don’t have to tell me things that you’re not comfortable sharing. That’s not how trust works.”

“Then why have you been going behind my back? We’re both hiding things from each other and you’ve made it clear that it’s none of my business. But if it’s stepping on _our_ missions then you’ve made it mine. Why have you been sabotaging our replica transmitters?”

“I’m not- It’s for CADMUS to look the wrong way for a while. They won’t recognize the tampering for what they really are.”

“Then who will?”

Kara draws a breath. Save for looking away and throwing her hands in the air to fake exasperation, Kara won’t budge. Lena knows why. Despite Kara being the one lying to her face, Lena also did some digging around even after they agreed to be partners. She could live to hide more secrets another day, but not if it leaves Kara to carry this burden alone. At the risk of ruining the lead she finally has on CADMUS, she steps aside for the truth.

“Memento Vivere.”

Kara whips her head, finally meeting her eyes. “How did you-”

“That's what the patterns read, isn't it?” Lena asks, already knowing the answer. “Something only Jeremiah will understand.”

Whatever guilt and sympathy Lena drew from the alien was quickly replaced with unmistakable contempt. At least this look is more familiar. Jaws clamped as if she’s trying to control her temper. “That’s right.” Lena watches Kara’s throat bob as she swallows. “I did mention him once. I mentioned him _once_ , and you felt you had the right to dig up my family tree. You could’ve just asked me, Lena.”

“That was _before_ I asked you to be my friend, Kara.”

Kara’s reaction is nothing short of expected and Lena is nothing short of guilty. She wants to apologize, but if she does, she might never stop. They have no time to keep being sorry. Kara seems to realize this, too as she straightens herself up and looks at Lena with a more schooled expression. “How did you know the code traces back to him? What _did_ you find?”

“Nothing I don’t already know.” Not seeing enough reason to leave much out anymore, Lena tells her. “It was winter. I was 15. I just got back from boarding school, sent home two years early because they ran out of class promotions to give me. My mother was already sending me away to college. I made the mistake of thinking she’d miss me, but she barely even talked to me.- 

“What does that have to do with Jeremiah?”

An unexpected jolt of pain digs its way into Lena’s heart like shrapnel. Kara must know she’s being a jerk right now. She has to. She had looked down, plainly regretting her insult almost as soon as she said it. Lena is familiar by now with what exactly calls to the red kryptonite, but it’s hardly an excuse. They both know it, but Lena won’t let her apologize again.

“To get my mother’s attention,” she manages to continue. “I snuck into one of her labs, thinking I should resolve some of her loose ends. To prove to her that she needs me. I didn’t know her CADMUS cronies would be there.”

Kara seems to have mustered the strength to meet Lena’s eyes again, her guilt taking the backseat.

“One of the scientists caught me. He knew who I was. He asked what I’m doing in the lab, and not seeing any point in lying, I told him. He just looked at me, _really_ looked at me, and told me that considering what he knew of my parents, maybe I’m better off being sent away. I said it wouldn’t really matter because we’ll all die anyway.”

“ _Memento Mori_ ,” Kara whispers.

Lena smiles. “You can imagine he didn’t like that.”

Kara lets herself smile back even just a little, not bothering to hide her desperate interest.

“He would catch me in facilities where I shouldn’t be several more times after that. He would always help me get away, but not before telling me _Memento Vivere_.”

“Remember you must live,” Kara says, translating on reflex.

“I wish I can say I know more. But all I can remember is that he’s not a prisoner. At least not then. I tried but I couldn’t pick up on their trail. They disappeared. And they must be really good at it if even _I_ can’t find them. I didn’t know he was your… that he adopted an alien.”

“Not until the day we met?” Kara asks, leaving the truth up to Lena.

“Well, you mentioned him. You’re right, I shouldn’t have, but I did check his records from before he disappeared from- from Midvale.”

_From your life_ , she tried not to say. It hung between them anyway. Kara averts her gaze, showing no signs of responding. Where her shoulders were once pronounced, they are now hunkered down. She crosses her arms as if to have an excuse to grip her muscles, to close in on herself.

“Let’s get him back.” Lena finds herself saying. “After we get the transmitters, let’s get him back.”

Kara turns to her just as Lena steps closer. Before Lena understands what she is doing, she takes out the case that had been sitting in her pocket for hours. She meant to do the trials with Kara tomorrow, but she finished the final touches earlier than she intended.

It was supposed to be a surprise. That’s one way to make someone feel cared for, Dr. Hopkins had said. Perhaps there is no better time to make someone feel cared for than now when all she wants is to wipe the heartbreak off Kara’s face. A hug is out of the question. Little gifts would have to do.

“Hey. I know a Luthor’s word doesn't mean much to you, or to anyone. But you can hold me to that promise like, like a loan.”

“A loan?” Kara is fully facing her now, her forehead further creasing in confusion. “Isn’t that just another word for what you call a leverage?”

“No. It’s not. As far as loans go, here’s a pretty good collateral.” She holds her hand out to Kara, the matte case resting on her palm. “For as long as I haven’t made good on my promise, this is yours.”

“I told you that’s not how trust works.”

“I know,” Lena says, rolling her eyes. “But you haven’t exactly been showing me how, Kara.”

She meant to be playfully honest, but she can almost see the trajectory of her words hitting Kara’s jugular. The woman radiates so much pain, Lena wouldn’t be surprised if her conductors pick up the vibrations. And because Lena can’t help herself, she files this away for later probing.

She flips the box open, revealing the bracelet inside. When Kara only blinks at it, Lena takes it upon herself to lift the bracelet. “It’s the suit, Kara. What you’re seeing is an atomized, condense group of nanobots that form the kryptosuit.” She pockets the case and reaches out to take Kara’s hand in her own. She stops midway, remembering what the mere ghost of Kara’s fingers on her skin did to her.

Thankfully, her own hesitation seemed to kick Kara into gear. She holds her wrist out to Lena. Has the air gone thicker?

“It responds to voice and touch, but because I haven’t reset it yet, it only answers to my voice and password.”

Lena steps away.

“ _El Mayarah_ ”

Before Kara has any time to react to Lena’s choice of the passcode, the bracelet disperses into its true form against her body. It spares no skin except for Kara’s face, leaving Lena free to watch her awe. Kara stays rooted to the spot as if afraid that moving would break the tight formation. She looks up at Lena who only juts her chin out in encouragement.

Kara plots a small perimeter, each step more sure than the last. When she’s certain the suit holds, she bends her knees and throws her feet up, leaving the central pivot of her body in place as she backflips.

Lena laughs. This seems to finally break Kara from her inspection only to fall into another trance. This isn’t the first time her laugh has caused the Kryptonian to act oddly. Lena files it under things _never_ to ask about.

“ _Memento Vivere_ _._ ”

With even less time than it took to assemble, the black frontier falls away from Kara’s body, snapping rapidly home around her wrist.

“You have plenty of time to test it tomorrow. I made some interesting improvements. But the most obvious is the size.”

The bracelet glints innocently as if it didn’t just serve a woman of steel. Lena keeps her gaze there unable to look Kara in the eye for what she’s about to confess. “After my mistake in the Nightvale, I made sure to make the suit as portable as possible so that you’ll never be without protection. I can’t help but think about what could’ve happened if it were Kryptonite enthusiasts that found us instead of the Nommoli. Don’t worry. You can reset the passcode and recalibrate it tomorrow. Each bot still runs on solar and bio reserves and can deflect-”

She does not know if Kara had been paying attention, because the moment she finally looks up, blue eyes are intent on her, not the bracelet. The night has already been brutal, but with Kara looking at her like that, Lena can’t help but think that they haven’t even gotten to the heart of it.

“What?” she manages to say.

“In Krypton, a bracelet is the equivalent of a wedding ring.”

“Okay?”

Kara only looks at her, waiting for her to put the pieces together.

“Oh, you’re being serious.”

A smile tugs at Kara’s lips.

“I didn’t take you for a romantic, Luthor.”

“Well,” Lena says. “This isn’t how I imagined ‘putting a ring on it’,” Lena says while air-quoting.

They let it linger for a moment and laugh. They’re being magnificently weird again. That should be good. Still, the Titanic sinks in her gut. Their laughter sinks along with it, leaving them staring at each other for far too long. Lena Luthor is being seen.

A ping slices through the hulking air. Kara blinks and reaches for her pocket, the movement reminding Lena that they are in the lab. The machines are not there to musically score their moment. The sound is coming from a contraption too thick to be a mobile phone.

“Your pager?”

Kara looks up at her. Their moment might have been ruined, but the way Kara looks at her hasn’t.

“My cue to leave,” Kara says after signing. She sounds disappointed. Or at least Lena hopes she is.

* * *

M’gann wasn’t supposed to let it get to full swing. She just meant to offer free drinks to draw most of her regulars. Herd them for bad news, more like. The alcohol was for nursing the pain, not for celebrating whatever rebellious act of the week they managed.

But the moment she opened the doors, Chester shouted “Free Beer!” as if he wasn’t just about to lose the job she lets him keep despite being bad at it. As if it wouldn’t start a cacophony of cheers, of bad karaoke, and unsupervised gambling. As if it wouldn’t signal the trading of fireballs and some Hellgramatian goo.

Perhaps if she offered free scotch instead of beer, they’d get the hint that this is a night of mourning, not a party. After a century of scavenging and low key enterprising on earth, she still has not grasped earthly customs. Much less the awkward hive mind of intergalactic beings who have had to assimilate on earth. 

“M’gann?” She turns to tilt her head at the blonde in greeting. The one they all call The Girl. Of course, she’s the last to arrive. Of course, unlike everyone else, she’s wearing a mask and a dumb pair of sunglasses. Indoors. At a quarter to 10 in the evening. M’gann tries not to scoff. She knows the pain of having to live a secret life. But not the kind of secret life people employ as an escape. They are not the same. Kara did this to herself after all.

Before she can even ask Kara what took her so long, Tamara trips over the sound system wire, and the bass gives way to Kara’s voice, vulgar against the sudden silence. As fate would have it, every single one of her customers turned to see who asked “What are we celebrating?”

Realizing it’s The Girl, they fall even quieter. M’gann almost winces. If Kara were a movie in what the kids call Letterboxd, she’d get mixed reviews. Except no one wants to argue. It’s not open for debate. The kid really should’ve known better than to ally with the police.

“We’re not celebrating anything.” M’gann blurts out. If it’s not to finally get a move on, it’s to save Kara and the rest of the room from a charged silence. Kara might be a traitor but back when most aliens were too terrified to rely on themselves, the girl faced serious risks for them. She probably still does. Kara at least deserves to lick her wounds in peace.

Judging from the way everyone turned their confused faces to her instead of Kara, M’gann knows she’s chosen the right words. The next ones don’t come as easily.

_What’s happening?_

Kara’s message comes through. She rarely opens their telepathic connection, but M’gann’s voice and hunched demeanor must’ve betrayed her lament.

“I’m sure-

She falters and feels Kara itching to be by her side. The blonde idiot at least respects her enough to know she can and would prefer to carry her own weight. Nobody needs to carry her. She is M’gann M’orzz, a Martian. Even more than that, she embodies more than one spirit. She’s been carrying selves upon selves for centuries.

The permanent form she chose is not a mere vessel but the body of a remarkable and hard-working woman from the nineteenth century. The woman granted her the honor of donning her physical form. She accepted it mostly because she couldn't let Rose’s children grow up without a mother—A mother who was a freedom fighter until her end.

So, no. There is no other way M’gann will deliver a mere earthly inconvenience than with her chest puffed out, and her chin held high. There is no way she will announce the downfall of one community without the confidence that they can get past this. That somehow, they will rebuild another hub to be loud and obnoxious in. They’ve done this before. They can do it again.

“I’m sure you’ve all heard of Edge Global,” she continues.

Everyone, even the Infernian siblings freeze. Tamara stops trying to fix the mess of wires she made. It must finally be dawning on them why M’gann gathered them tonight. Of course, they’ve all heard of Edge Global. A third of National City’s upper middle class uses their products. Morgan Edge would not shut up about expansion. That includes buying out new assets, even land near the outskirts.

“Our landlord just told me this morning that I should start packing tonight.”

Nobody says anything. Maybe they think if they hang on a little longer, she’ll say it was just a prank. A mirthless, cruel joke. But she never jokes, and they know it. She is but the planet’s most humorless bartender.

A jolt of-no, not pain- but hollowness, throws M’gann out of balance. She is hardly positioned at the center of the room, but under pressing gazes, the dive bar looks as if it must have shifted to make her the center of National City.

“There is no other way to explain this than Edge Global making an offer he couldn’t refuse.”

She realizes her elbows and arms propped on the counter are all that’s holding her up. Her knees must’ve buckled. Not from the nausea of their community’s fate, but from the weight of their silent probing. As she rights herself up, she tries to return their gazes, all of which are piercing attempts at telepathic connection. She tries not to laugh at how Kara’s awkward entrance has quickly become history.

“I know this bar has meant more to us than just a place to drink and let loose. It’s been a safe space that just happens to have cheap beer. I would’ve gladly kept this up for the rest of my life, but we are not a priority on this planet. I deeply regret saying that this is our last night here.”

There. She did it. There is nothing else to be said. If she didn’t see the flaw in her plan, she sees it now. There was no plan for after she’s delivered her announcement.

Not far from her, she hears Kara swallow. _A heads up would’ve been nice._

M’gann raises a brow at her. The Girl can sometimes be insensitive but this was unbecoming even for her. And Kara knows it.

_I’m sorry I didn’t mean to..._

_You probably need a drink, Kara._

She can only guess what’s behind Kara’s dark tinted glasses. Perhaps, it’s a look of resignation or disappointment. It might not even be a look at all. Her bet is on closed eyes. Because instead of getting a drink, Kara looks up as if finally seeing M’gann for the first time, and then she turns to the rest of the room as if to see it for the last time.

* * *

The Fortress was only a few thousand miles northwest. Barely even a dozen songs from National City. Three, if she flies at full speed. But a flight might even be out of the question. Since she walked out of the dive bar, her stomach wouldn’t stop clenching. As if with a mind of its own, it shrinks in on itself to feel less of a gaping hole.

M’gann must’ve wanted to tell her about the bar ahead of time. Hell, Kara even meant to ask her about it sooner. But she truly thought the martian’s persistent calmness meant she had things under control. Turns out that really is just M’gann’s face. The solar system’s mightiest species, master of the resting badass face, loses to a man who would undoubtedly tell her to smile more: unthinkable.

Despite what she tells everyone, Kara doesn’t want to be alone. Least of all times now. Winn still doesn’t know about her identity, or rather, her identities. With her friend, her sister, and her cousin out of the question, she toys with the idea of the only person who might be able to stand her company. She might have already called if not for her relentless arrogance. She really should’ve saved the number when Kal gave it to her.

An idea even less favorable comes to mind before she can dodge it. The idea being texting James at half-past midnight to ask for his sister’s number. The possibility that she might be losing her mind does not escape her. She must be if she actually thinks reaching the therapist is worth the awkward interaction with an ex.

But she swallows, knowing her instincts are not entirely unfounded. Even before getting her Ph.D., Kelly Olsen has been known to offer free therapy sessions to extraterrestrials. 

Sitting on a tower crane seven hundred feet from the ground gives her a swell view of the city. But it does nothing to ease the blackhole swallowing her insides. Kara shakes her head, her feet halting from its swing. How can she even consider therapy? Surely, the others need Kelly more right now, don’t they? Though short-lived, Kara smiles at the thought that maybe all is not lost. Kelly’s tiny inconspicuous office is proof that there _are_ still safe spaces for aliens in National City. They’re just not for her.

Maybe a slow flight can still get her to the fortress eventually. Sometimes Kalex would play some of Krypton’s native lullabies. At the thought of Alura’s voice, the gaping hole in her core finally lets matter fill it. It adds up to nothing but the compounded pain she should be used to by now. No. A robot, which can remind her of all things she already lost, would not make for good company.

She really shouldn’t be thinking about places to be. Nowhere _is_ safe. As soon as she finally lets herself think of the next best thing, her super-hearing kicks in, in search of a certain woman’s heartbeat. Maybe it’s because she’s tired. Maybe it’s because she can feel nothing on her skin but the wind and her loose bracelet swaying gently in its direction. Either way, she has no business thinking about Lena Luthor.

Not when she’s worked so hard to stay away. She can’t afford to have yet another home that can be taken from her. But just as she failed to not make a home out of a hopeless dive bar, just as she failed to not let Alex burrow herself into her mind like shrapnel, Kara has failed to unlearn the sound of Lena’s heart.

She hops up and lands on a perch. Careful not to get trapped in another hyperfocus limbo, she makes no effort to zero in on crevices. Instead, she lets all sounds of the city wash over her, trusting that she’ll eventually pick up Lena’s heartbeat in the mess.

She doesn’t. Kara repeats the process, employing the patience she used to have in her missing person’s cases. Her own heart skips a beat, the unsteady rhythm loud enough to nudge her to an understanding. She hopes to _Rao_ Lena isn’t a missing person’s case.

Just as quickly as she rises to panic, she finds reprieve in the only possible explanation that doesn’t involve kidnapping or death—the volidium-lined lab. Didn’t Lena disappear into the facility when Kara went to Metropolis for Halloween? Lena could either be lying dead somewhere or maybe, she’s working in the lab on yet another secret project while everyone else is asleep.

Kara can’t tell which of these possibilities scare her more. What if she’s simply inside the lab, and not really out there in danger? What will she say? That she’s always been good at being alone, but tonight has been especially harrowing?

She might manage to say that. She’d rather admit being hurt than the simple truth that out of the few people she has left, it’s Lena who makes her ache to give companionship a real shot. _Rao_ , maybe she can just pretend she remembered a technical flaw on the transmitter that needs fixing ASAP. Or maybe she can say she has a stomach ache and needs to mix something up for Kryptonian remedy. Despite the short distance, this feels like her longest trip to the lab yet.

When she finally gets to the mouth of the cave, there is no pause between landing and running. There is just Kara pushing past the doors that keep her away from Lena. She finally skids to a stop too much like their first encounter. By her feet, lies the pale woman in question. She really needs to stop finding Lena like this. Pieces from the transmitter she must’ve been studying are spread on the ground.

For a second Kara thinks she fainted again, but the way in which the parts were arranged is not random. She watches as Lena’s chest rises and falls in sync with her heartbeat. She must be dreaming. Kara hangs back for a while, careful not to make a sound. She knows how annoying it is to have one’s own dreaming interrupted.

She studies the transmitter parts. She must’ve been calibrating. Of course. Maybe she can do that for her. If Lena stayed back to work some more, then shouldn’t it be reason enough for Kara to work too? For a while, M’gann’s bar can fade into a minor inconvenience. The focus on detail should do it.

The sunbed on the other end of the room catches her attention. She decides to carry Lena and lay her on it before working. But just as she takes a step, she hears Lena’s breath hitch, her heart beating too fast. Her dreams must be anything but pleasant.

“Mom, no!”

Kara is right by her side before she knows it. She tries to press Lena down gently but she thrashes on. “No!”

“Hey, hey it’s okay,” Kara says. “It’s okay. It was just a dream, Lena. It’s just a dream.”

She says variants of appeasement over and over again, the words not really registering on either of them. Lena is not okay. _Kara_ is not okay. Who is she to tell someone things are going to be okay? She realizes she’s been trapped in her own thoughts when the woman calls to her.

“Kara?”

Lena squints slightly at her as if looking from behind cobwebs.

“Hey,” Kara. “You were having a nightmare.”

“Oh no.”

“It’s not real, Lena.”

“No, I mean. I can’t believe I fell asleep.”

“Oh.” Kara loosens her grip but doesn’t take her hands off Lena’s shoulders. “Well duh, it’s nearly one, Luthor. One in the morning.”

“But I was so close to linking the transmitters. If I finish now-”

“-We can start calibrating the targeted distribution, yes, yes, I know. You said that thirteen times already.”

Lena’s mouth hangs open just a little, probably fixated on how Kara kept count. Kara knows because for some reason Lena fixates on things like being thought about. As if the thought of anyone paying attention to her is a foreign concept. It hits her now how much she wants to punish anyone who drove Lena to think that way, including the dead brother in his grave. Including herself. 

“Didn’t we close the lab together? I thought you’d be home by now. ”

The woman just looks at her. Lena manages to look focused, if not a little unhinged. The remains of having seen a horror still cloud her eyes. Kara wonders what Lena saw in that dream. This can’t be the first time she called out to her mom.

“Wait,” Kara says. “You-you've done this before have you?”

When Lena doesn’t answer, she slides her arm under Lena’s knees and scoops her up. “When was the last time you slept in your own place?”

“Well, you’re one to talk,” Lena says as Kara deposits her onto the nearest chair. The warmth of their brief contact leaves her too soon. _Rude_.

“What do you mean?”

“You haven’t been home in god knows how long. You’ve been sleeping in that van of yours.”

“You mean Streaky.”

Lena doesn’t ask why on earth her car has a name. And that name in particular. She looks instead at the work she left on the floor. As if something about their disassembled state reminded her of Kara, she looks up. “Why are you here?”

_Because you’re here._ “I wanted to get more work done.”

“Says the woman giving me shit for working ‘til this hour.”

“Working _and_ falling asleep on the floor.”

Lena continues to eye her, looking increasingly free of her nightmare induced haze.

“You should get home soon, though,” Kara urges on. “I can work on the calibration.” She was hoping she wouldn’t have to be alone right now, but Lena shouldn’t be living like this.

“You can’t live like this.”

“Okay.”

She wasn’t under any illusion that this would be an easy negotiation, so she doesn’t turn to start picking up the parts on the floor. She waits for the little shit to spit it out.

“I’ll go home on one condition,” Lena says. _There it fucking is_.

“Come home with me tonight.” Whatever smug smile Kara earned retreats so far back down her throat she almost staggers as she steps back, pretending to take over the work. Lena simply meant she can crash at her place instead of sleeping in her car. But her tone reeked unmistakably of more than just simple human decency. She can’t help but wonder if Lena’s doing it on purpose just to see her squirm. Has the woman finally caught on to how much power she really has over her?

“Alright, alright. Sure,” Kara says, deciding to tease right back. Better safe than squirming.

“We’re only practically married anyway.” She holds the bracelet up, still proud of her little Kryptonian reference. It’s silly but Lena looks away, taking her turn to blush. Kara can be smug about that. She can smirk and take the cake, but in watching Lena grow shy, Kara’s own face feels increasingly heated. She wouldn’t be surprised if they look into a mirror and see the both of them flustered.

“I just mean, if you insist I don’t sleep in the lab tonight, it’s only fair I insist you sleep somewhere more comfortable too.”

Despite having come here to take on the slim chance that Lena might be good company, Kara finds herself resisting. Things can’t get any better. They’re practically waging a war with CADMUS. She’s setting up yet another home in someone she can lose in the process. She doesn’t want to ever look back to this moment and know she didn’t at least try to hold the reins in.

“I don’t think I’d be able to sleep, Lena. I came here to work. To take my mind off things, remember?”

Lena’s exasperated fluster grows into a shy smile so tender, so unbridled by tomorrow that whatever Lena says next is of no consequence.

“Then take your mind off things, Kara. With me.” Well, they were of _some_ consequence.

She knew since the moment Lena left her in the bar that first time that she’d end up here sooner or later. Here being the space between alternating terror and safety. At least for once, she has somewhere to go.

“I have alien alcohol,” Lena declares, not knowing she’s already won the wager. If she only knew, she wouldn’t need kryptonite at all to have power over the Kryptonian. So Kara says nothing, leaving the poor girl to think it’s because of the promise of liquor. “What?” Lena asks. “Did you think Sam and I never had any fun?”

* * *

“Wheredya get this ‘nyway?”

“The Glade Trade,” Lena says, exaggerating the long vowels. She’s beginning to sound like she’s talking to a child. Maybe it has something to do with Kara’s slurred questions. She _has_ had three glasses.

“Oh yeah, riiiight. 2017. They paid me in corn cobs to smuggle twenty crates in. Didn’t know you hit The Glades, Leeeeena.”

“Didn’t know you accept food as payment, Kara.”

Kara leans in if only to make sure Lena understands. “I have a soft spot for Kalenians, okay.” She shifts a little closer because Lena is looking far too amused in her corner. “They have a harmless black market anyway.”

Lena looks up “I once thought about doing that.”

“What, be a Kalenian smuggler?” She imagines Lena with blue skin and a bright crystal horn on her forehead, the Kalenian trademark. She giggled. She _would_ make a dorky unicorn.

“No. Corn cobs. I want to grow food.” Lena’s smile turns soft, hopeful. “Or at least help make it easier for farmers.”

Kara can tell that she’s giving a dopey smile. The cranking of her underused facial muscles should be sign enough. But what’s more telling is the amused glint on Lena’s green-or are they blue?-eyes that just. Won’t. Go. Away.

“Lena Kieran Luthor wants to be a farmer.”

The only way Lena’s not yet offended at not being taken seriously is that she might believe Kara to be drunk. There’s no way three glasses could’ve gotten her there already. She’s Kryptonian. And this is Kalenian liquor, not exactly known to be the galaxy’s heavyweight.

She can’t say not _not_ drunk either, though.

Lena turns to properly face Kara, folding her feet under her as if to warm them like a hen would warm her eggs. Kara can feel her smile getting dopier by the second. A blue chicken unicorn. Her imagination has _got_ to stop.

“Why not?” Much to her delight, Lena looks earnest again, no longer just indulging Kara’s alleged intoxication. “It’s the most important job in the world, don’t you think?”

She’s not just talking to help her take her mind off things. Lena actually wants to talk about this. A warmth that has nothing to do with the alcohol drips from her chest and settles on her gut because o _f course,_ Lena wants to save the world. _Of course,_ she wants to solve world hunger.

Anything threatening to spill out of Kara’s mouth feels too silly. So she tries to get Lena to keep talking instead. “Hmm, I don’t know about that.”

“You wouldn’t have your donuts if not for the grains. No wrappers for potstickers. No starch to make fried food.”

“What else,” Kara hums. She knows just how important farmers are, but she wants to keep Lena talking like this. The woman’s voice is doing funny things to her head and her chest. She leans on the back of the couch, her front fully facing Lena, her eyes closed.

“No vanilla, no cereals…” Lena hums as if at the brink of a scientific breakthrough. “Not even pizza, Kara. No pizza for you.”

_Can she be any more precious than this,_ Kara finds herself thinking. She wonders when this sweet, earnest woman would get that Kara’s just being the idiot messing with her. That there’s nothing she wouldn’t do to keep hearing that voice.

“What about you?” the voice asks. _What about me?_

She opens her eyes, her body suddenly more awake than several glasses of alien liquor would allow. She can feel Lena’s warmth. _When did they get this close?_

“What about me?”

“What would you want to do? If you aren’t stuck with me, I mean.”

Kara considers poking fun at Lena’s “slam book” questions, considers regaling her with fake anecdotes on building a raccoon sanctuary. For some reason, however, she wants to be heard. “I used to be a journalist.”

Lena nods. “And you regret quitting.”

It wasn’t a question. And she doesn’t correct her. Kara hasn’t allowed herself to regret quitting Catco. It was all for the best. But she never could ignore the shot of longing at the sight of Nia, or Cat, or even Snapper on the bylines.

An idea prompts Kara to sit up a little straighter. She knows thinking of Nia makes her want to ask Lena something but images of their faces prove to be a dizzying mix. She blinks a few times to right herself. When she looks up, there is no judgment, no pity. 

“Maybe when this is over, you can try again.”

“Ha. Then you should let me interview you after you give free energy to the world. It can be my comeback piece, and I can write about you being a serial workaholic or something.”

Lena smiles and that’s when it happens. Geez, Kara can hardly keep up with the number of times the temperature shifts just because Lena is in the room. Lena is smiling to herself, but it looks nothing like the ones that catch Kara’s breath. Her eyes glisten, no longer with amusement but with pain. Kara tries to backtrack, to pinpoint what she must’ve said to cause this. She might be a little drunk but the hodgepodge of jumbled thoughts all point to the same thing-The future. The future makes Lena sad.

“Yeah, maybe.”

She takes a leaf from Lena’s book and files this for another time. It wouldn’t do any good to probe the woman when Kara’s not sober enough to think well before she speaks. As if to make a case against herself, Kara speaks before she could even think about it.

“I just lost my underground office, so I might as well give journalism another try.”

Did she really need to bring the subject back to her own pressing heartbreak? But Lena was on the verge of crying, she just _had_ to do something At least it worked a little. Lena’s pained look of loss shifts to one of concern.

“I’m sorry to hear about your bar, Kara.” She blinks back her own tears before they could spill. Then, she puts a warm hand on Kara’s arm.

“Didn’t you take me here to get my mind off things?” Kara leans in a little closer, not caring if she sounds suggestive of something neither of them is ready for. She’d rather risk being embarrassed by something as silly as her own desire than to lay her heart bare again. It’s bleeding enough as it is.

“I know. But I know what it’s like to keep things to yourself and let them fester.”

“You don’t understand.” Kara honestly doesn’t understand herself either.

“I know what it’s like to lose a home, Kara.”

“Not like this.”

“I know but-

“Stop that. Stop assuming that you can apply your own experiences to mine. Stop projecting. You can’t fix yourself by fixing me.”

Kara knows she’s spoken out of line. But the warmth all over her body has turned into fuel. It hurts to stop when you’re walking on hot coals.

“Do you even know what it’s like to speak a language no one else does? Did you know Superman doesn’t know-doesn’t _want_ to know jackshit about where he came from?”

It’s only when she hears Lena’s heart speed up erratically, that Kara realizes she must’ve been yelling. Lena has grown smaller from her line of sight. And not just because she stood up. She immediately falters at the sight.

She sinks back on the couch, turning a little away.

“I’m sorry. I should _not_ have presumed- I-

From the corner of her eyes, she can tell Lena has not looked away from her, not once.

“You’re right, though,” Lena says. “I don’t know what it’s like.”

Kara feels nimble fingers on her own as Lena takes her glass away. The sound of it settling on the black marble table is louder than she expected.

“But maybe instead of lashing out to me, why don’t you tell me what’s wrong? You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. But what I’m saying is, you can’t keep being sorry. You can’t keep hurting people because of something you can’t and _won’t_ talk about.”

And that’s all there is to it is there? For all her qualms and rage about being analyzed, Kara is really just a girl who wants to be seen. Her thoughts drift to her father. Jeremiah Danvers-not the father preserved in a hologram. Jeremiah once told her that without knowing it, we may have dedicated our whole lives to memories-we make them, we let them define us, and then when the world calls us to doubt them, we let them break us.

They’re our own, our very own way of seeing things. And finding someone willing to remember with us is harder than anyone thinks. For one, Eliza was always careful not to broach the subject of her home planet. She showered Kara with affection that even made Alex jealous for a while. But it was as if she was trying to make new good memories so that Kara can forget what she lost. Eliza didn’t seem to understand that to remember is to love. 

If Alex did, she’s not sure her sister wants to do any of that now. To add salt to the wound, Kal-el, the one she counted on the most, broke her heart when he chose to exist as the memory of krypton without the burden of remembering it. He hasn’t made any efforts in learning the language even if it’s just to share them with her cousin. Not once did he ask her about what she loved or even hated about their home planet.

But Jeremiah, well, there is no doubt in her mind that when she finds him again, he will still want to hear about Krypton. It wouldn’t be like sharing Krypton with Sam who unfortunately only had memories that came with the impulse to destroy. Whenever she hung out with her, it felt like she can only share a diluted, romanticized version, if only to augment what Sam calls poison. And she understood. In a way, it was like having red kryptonite induced nightmares from time to time.

When she was a kid, it disturbed Kara to no end that everything that felt real about Krypton was the one that led to its destruction. She longed for someone who would listen without pointing to the obvious fact of the matter-that they had it coming. Jeremiah might have understood that.

He would ask her what she’d eat when she got home from school. About how they acquired their food resources back in Argo. About their absurd policies on family planning. About the complex tariff systems that Kara realized she still understood despite her youth. He even let her name Krypto, the first dog she was allowed to keep. It was as if he made sure Kara would never forget both the good and worst things about her people.

He reminded her that at the end of the day, we just want someone to remember with us, to be seen. In returning Lena’s gaze, she can’t help but think that perhaps, this is what she came here for. She wonders if that may very well be what Lena is offering.

“Honestly, I’m not really sure if I even know how to listen,” Lena says as if reading her mind. “but if you had anybody else, I don’t think you’d be here.”

Forgetting that her brain has been feeling a little dislodged, Kara immediately shakes her head. “No, Lena. I- I want to be here. You just scare me is all.” 

“I _just_ scare you is all? Well, there’s a lot to unpack there, Kara Zor-el.”

“See what I mean?”

They just look at each other for a moment. They just look and look, and then they laugh. Not in a way that ends the tension. Not in a way that lets the moment leave them. Just in the way that they’ve accepted why they’re both here tonight. With Kalenian liquor, unmistakable tenderness, and little space between them.

“What was it like?”

“Hmm?”

“M’gann’s bar.”

Kara feels her drunken haze lift, her eyes getting wider. She leans back slightly to get a better look at Lena who just might be the only right decision she’s made in a long time. She feels as if she could cry.

“What?” Lena tilts her head, examining what must be an extra limb growing out of Kara’s head.

“Nothing, I just meant you’re ok with it?

“I don’t understand, Kara. Why wouldn't I be ok with it?”

She takes a deep breath. She’s going to have to get through her slurring.

“You took a chance on me because you think I’m some hero. And I’m willing to be that to see your project through because it will no doubt help people. Honestly, Lena, it's brilliant.”

Lena smiles, still looking unsure if Kara is going anywhere with this. But Kara _is_ going somewhere with this. Hopefully, somewhere Lena can follow.

“You do know there are lots of metahumans and aliens who can help you. But you insist that whatever perfect version of myself you have in your head, is what you need.”

Lena parts her mouth obviously to refute, but Kara holds her hand up.

“If the perfect Kryptonian is who you need by your side, then that’s who I’ll be. If you and I- If I share who I am with you, my past, then you’ll continue our mission with that burden.” Perhaps drinking is a good idea. There’s no way she could’ve gotten this far sober.

“If you get even a glimpse of my suffering then you’ll care. You’ll second guess everything you ask of me because you’ll consider what I’ve lost. You won’t be able to help it because you’re a good person, Lena. You’ve had enough losses on your own. I don’t want to make things harder for you.”

Those were more words than she can account for. She’s plenty sure she’s repeated way too many lines, but she doesn’t care. Lena at least deserves to know what she’s getting into.

In lieu of her own words, Lena reaches out. Kara sighs at the unmistakable warmth. Because it means Kara was never perfect in Lena’s eyes. Because it means Kara is being dumb and dramatic. Because it means Lena already cares in the first place and she’s going to have to get used to it.

And so with Lena’s hand on her knee, she tells her. She tells her about the bar. About how it was honestly, a deeply terrible place to be because it reminded her of the biggest mistake of her life. She tells her about how it was basically hell, but that it also gave her an identity, a purpose. It was a bustling, vibrant place. Proof that her mistake didn’t damn them all.

She tells her about Brainy, the only alien who remained her friend even after she betrayed all of them. He had to jump on his sister’s ship to help with a family problem lightyears away. She thinks shortly of skipping that part but lets herself recount the pain of still managing to lose a friend.

She tells her about how her underground office is her only excuse to see Nia, and sometimes even Cat- remnants of the job she didn’t know she loved ‘till she left it. She tells her about Tamara and Chester. About how they both had a thing for The Girl, but eventually had a thing for each other. She tells her that many of them were once her friends if calling in favors from a masked vigilante could count as affection.

She tells her about her odd arrangement with M’gann. Who probably only let her use the bar as her office because a sulking Kryptonian is not a pleasant sight. She tells her it can’t possibly be for anything else. She tells her how it felt like a piece of home even though none of them were from Krypton. Even though most of the people there would rather pretend she doesn’t exist. She tells her how even losing a planet was not enough to prepare her for earthly losses.

Lena starts to disappear behind a blurry mist. Kara thinks perhaps she really is drunker than she thought. But she realizes that the cloudy mists _are_ tears. Fingers press on her face to wipe them away.

What little space left between them feels dense, like clouds gathering in the storm. Weren’t spaces literally spaces because they hold nothing? But as if with a life of its own, the space thrums with _something_ Kara could not and would not name. She doesn’t have to wonder any longer because Lena pulls her into a hug.

She hugs right back, feeling the bracelet Lena gave her just hours ago. She laughs silently to herself imagining the shock that must be on Alura’s face if she were alive to see what Lena did. In the eyes of Argo’s court, the gesture would’ve unwittingly bound the Luthor to Kara. Which is more than a little silly. Because they’re not on Krypton. Because it’s gone and Lena is right here with her.

She wonders what could’ve happened if they weren’t interrupted earlier. What if M’gann didn’t choose that precise moment to ping her. Would they have just stood there? Could either of them stand to leave without a word? The memory tugs at her. Like there’s something they should be doing right now. She looks into Lena’s eyes, thinking maybe the answer is there.

But Lena only smiles up at her, like she’s savoring the moment and it’s all she could do not to press herself against the woman. She can’t really blame her. Lena probably assumes Kara will never let her see her like this again. And she’s right. As soon as she wakes up the next day, as soon as she peels off Lena’s soft MIT shirt, she’ll act like there’s nothing but the civil partnership between them.

Except after having found this, is there really regular programming to revert to? She finds that she doesn’t want her to stop looking at her that way. Like a hero. She doesn’t mind the pedestal, because it’s built on memories and truth that Lena chooses to see.

She pulls herself away but dares to keep her hands on the woman.

“Do you have any idea, any idea at all what you do to me?”

Lena frowns at her.

_Cute_.

There is an onslaught of words vying to embody Lena Luthor. But cute is what Kara lands on. The little crease between Lena’s brows is just. too. Cute.

She can’t take it anymore. Without further thought, she presses her lips to the woman’s forehead, perhaps to kiss the crease away. But as she withdraws, she finds that Lena’s frown only deepens.

Maybe the first time didn’t do the trick. Maybe she just imagined having kissed her. Maybe she should try again. 

Kara ignores her head that buzzes every time she so much as moves it and surges forward. Not unlike the many, many times she’s miscalculated lab equations, her lips land on Lena’s lips instead. It’s soft like she imagined. It’s only occurring to her now how much she’s been wanting to kiss the Luthor all day.

_Memento Vivere._

Lena makes a sound and moves with her, cradling her nape gently. Kara’s own hands hover an inch from her shirt, for fear that she might crush her. As if sensing the hesitation, Lena laughs through the kiss and presses their bodies together. She has half a mind to take offense in whatever that laugh was when a leg presses on to her center. Only then does Kara let her hands land on Lena’s waist. It’s safe and it’s a mess. As their kiss turns more hurried, she wonders how she went on for so long without having known this. Without having felt this heat.

Lena gasps as Kara’s teeth graze her lower lip. Kara uses the small opening to slide her tongue in, feeling as if she could not let this end without having tasted Lena. The woman whimpers, and it drives Kara crazy if she isn’t already.

She supposes Lena is not far behind because she nudges her almost impatiently. They sink further into the couch, Kara’s back hitting the cushion. A giggle escapes her before she can help it.

“Oh, this is so soft.”

“What?” Lena breathes, her lips already halfway to Kara’s jaw.

“Where’d you get these pillows?”

“Um, at Marquis, why?”

For a moment, Lena looks confused, as if she’s the one who drank a bottle of Kalenian alcohol.

Kara slightly pulls Lena away and raises her brows as if to announce something important. “Oh, that’s a rich person place, right?”

“What?”

For all of Kara’s talk against rich people, there’s very little she wouldn’t do to get herself one of these pillows. She finds she doesn’t have to explain that out loud because Lena smiles at the same time. She gets it. It sends both of them giggling. The more Kara thinks about the pillows, the funnier it gets. It makes very little sense but she can’t quit it. Lena sits up offering a hand. “Kara, come on you’re drunk.

“You’re cute when you’re annoyed.”

“I’m not annoyed.”

“I just want you off the couch.”

But neither of them moves. Not when they’ve both just found something. Kryptonians can hold their breaths for up to twenty minutes but under Lena’s weight, she can hardly get enough air to function. This isn’t a bad way to go.

“Lena I need-

She can’t continue, afraid her heart will jump out of her mouth if she opens it again. But if the silence were to go on, Kara is sure she will cry. So she grabs Lena by her shirt and kisses her again, almost counting on the searing contact to melt them like candle wax. Maybe then, she wouldn’t need oxygen as badly.

Despite Lena’s earlier plea that they sleep already, Kara meets no resistance. The woman honest to Rao moans when Kara slips her hands under her shirt. She nuzzles Lena’s neck, wants to bury herself in her smell. She wants to believe that this is something she can have. She is reduced to a thing that wants and wants and wants. Her hands fly to the hem of Lena’s shirt, but before she can lift, Lena stops her. Not without difficulty.

“Kara, we can’t do this now.”

Kara watches Lena’s chest rise and fall. Their deep raspy breaths are not helping her case.

“I- I think it’s time we go to bed” Lena manages to say. She immediately backtracks the moment Kara smirks like the idiot that she is. “To sleep, Kara. You need to sleep.”

Kara preens at that. She doesn’t care what people say about how much alcohol makes people forget. It would take more than a barrel to pry the image of Lena’s red, flustered face, her delicate fingers, and her soft, soft lips off her mind.

Even if Kara were sober, there is no way she could’ve possibly ended tonight without at least trying to kiss Lena. _Rao_ , if she knew what it would be like, they would’ve been doing this ages ago.

Lena finally gets off of her. The cold replacing her weight is criminal. “Come on.”

* * *

It takes a while but Kara is eventually lying on her side, Lena laying a blanket over her. She places a glass of water beside the lamp. Lena catches her staring and smiles, not any help at all to Kara’s erratic heart. But as if she can’t help herself either, Lena kneels in front of her and tucks Kara’s vagrant strand of hair behind her ear.

“Good night, Kara.”

“Where are you going?”

“I’m sleeping on the couch tonight.” 

“But Leeeeenuh”

“But what, Kara?”

“I’m sorry I yelled at you.”

“Oh. Well, you’re drunk”

“No, I’m not.”

Kara peels away the cover halfway and opens her arms wide in invitation. “Come ‘ere.”

Lena rolls her eyes but leans into her arms. She squeals in surprise as Kara lifts her and pulls her onto the bed. They both stifle their giggles as if the noise would make time move faster as if breaking silence would cue Rao to break the dawn. Another day would start before they’ve even had enough time. If Kara’s being honest, the passing of time would be a little more than rude right now.

“Really. I’m sorry. Sometimes, I -

“Kara you don’t need to do this now.”

“No, Lena. You’re wonderful, and I’m an idiot. I’m sorry.”

Her head throbs, but something’s telling her she needs to be saying this more than she needs to be sleeping, even more than she needs to be kissing Lena.

“Sometimes I say things I don’t really mean because I’m mad at myself. And to be perfectly honest, I’m mad at everything. _I_ was the one projecting. Not you.”

“We’ll have to work on that.”

“We? What, like I’m some science project?” It’s only in jest, but she sees Lena doesn’t appreciate it.

“No, like you’re someone who can do better than that.” Lena sighs, and places a lingering kiss on Kara’s cheek so gently she nearly shivers.

_We._ Lena and her will work on that. Lena’s not letting her off the hook. For some reason that makes her want to, _need_ to kiss her again. But Lena pulls away.

“Okay,” Kara says.

Thankfully Lena doesn’t get up immediately. She just lays on her side watching Kara. Probably waiting for her to finally sleep.

“Can you stay? Just for now?”

“I have a soft couch with soft rich people pillows, remember?”

“But- but what about you? What if you dream about Lillian again?”

“Lillian?”

“Earlier at the lab. You were calling to your mom.”

Lena all but freezes.

“No, Lillian wasn’t there. But I _was_ dreaming about my mom.”

_Oh_. She meant her biological mom. Her real mom. The one she lost. The one she has yet to ever talk about. Kara wants to hit herself for not realizing it sooner. Lena is still facing her, but her arms are crossed as if to hold herself. Kara feels herself leaning into her, wanting to make it better, but Lena uncrosses her arms and leans back almost imperceptibly. “Maybe it would be better if we give each other space, yeah?”

It might be the grace with which she rises from the bed or the calming sound of her heart beats. Kara nods, the dread not catching up with her. But as she watches the darken the door, her heart splinters. Lena listened to her selflessly all night, has listened to her even on the days she wouldn’t say a thing, yet Kara hasn’t put enough thought into Lena’s past.

It hasn’t even been long enough, and she’s already failed to treat Lena right. Perhaps she’s lost everything because she doesn’t know how to treat anyone right. She thinks the worst of people, almost as much as she thinks the worst of herself. She won’t get Jeremiah back. Or Alex. Or Kal. Or Brainy. Heck, it’s only a matter of time before Winn gets in trouble because of her. 

Just when she thinks she’s cried enough, she starts crying again. Ugly sobs.

And just when she thinks consciousness would finally escape her, she feels the bed sink. A stretch of warmth presses on to her back. Through her racking, fitful sobs, she hears Lena whispering. Even with super hearing, she can’t make much sense of the words. She can only cry harder.

* * *

Thank you for reading!

Yea no I don’t always know what i am doing but i love Kara and Lena very much and that’s enough to fuel this fic.

Comments help too. Thank you i am soft.

Wailing also accepted on Twitter: [ChaoticVirgo2](https://twitter.com/chaoticvirgo2)


	14. Pregame

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> so now that they've kissed, does that mean they'll stop being dumbasses?
> 
> idk they could be doing even more and still be dumb about feelings lol but besides being a pregame to a steamier (i actually used that word my age is showing lmao) future together, this chapter is a pregame to the thicc of the plot where we start harvesting all the seeds planted since chapter 1.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Implied suicidal thoughts (not attempts, but consideration) in the past
> 
> It's oddly chilly here in the tropics. I gather it's not as fun out there for folks snowed in. I hope this fic helps keep you feel safe and warm.

Every moment could be the last. With the kind of life Lena leads, that is. It’s only a matter of time before another top dog threatened by her pro-proletariat technology attempts to incinerate her. Her acquaintance who tried to sell the patent for a respiratory disease medicine for one dollar wasn’t so lucky. With everything Lena’s been up to, it’s a surprise she’s even managed to turn twenty-eight without losing a limb. Maybe it was a good idea to move to National City after all.

Still, even the mere thought of going up against CADMUS feels like a death wish. So as much as she detests living the luxurious one-percenter life, she indulges in a bottle of whiskey now and then. She hired an assistant for her _executive_ assistant to get both of them Noonan’s coffee from 10 blocks away. She spends a fortune on sustainably sourced fabrics, not minding the extra costs of special handling services.

Lena lets herself get used to the good things from time to time. She is still a stinking billionaire after all. She vaguely passes that off as the reason she finds herself in bed now with a living, breathing furnace. Except her heavy lashes lifting and brushing against familiar soft skin has her breaking on the inside, has her almost breaking past the embrace, past her own apartment, past several doors of the building. Because for fuck’s sake. Of all the things she could get used to, the warmth of Kara’s neck is the one comfort she can’t afford. She’s already buried their night in Nightvale somewhere in the deep folds of her grey matter. And yet, the past catches up to her, revealing itself to be what it really is—a pregame to this.

It’s not like _this_ is massively shocking. The woman is beautiful, more than she ever anticipated. She walked into the dive bar with the premise of finally meeting Kara Danvers. Of at least letting it be her last connection with someone if it could be. If things were to go wrong, Lena found comfort in the fact that a ruined Luthor is not exactly hard to get over. There is nothing she could do to truly hurt Kara.

But that was before she found out the damn blonde is the very same Kryptonian she’s been looking for. That was before the lines between fondness and scientific curiosity became nearly interchangeable. That was before Kara whispered drunk confessions she would never let Lena hear otherwise. That was before they fell into bed with hardly any space between them.

For months, she wondered why Kara did the little things she did. She didn’t think the answer would be both as simple and as devastating as Kara’s feelings. The moment Kara kissed her, everything made sense. Sense, by most accounts, is followed by sound decisions. Sense, in the case of star-crossed idiots, however, is but a nauseating pendulum between clarity and denial.

The lingering gazes, the gentle touches, the calculated teasing. The damn playlist. Maybe Kara didn’t really think much of it. If either of them had the foresight needed to weed their partnership of feelings, they wouldn’t be this... entangled. She has to believe this because believing anything else would be admitting they’re helpless to purge something as trivial as feelings.

So yes, maybe the lack of foresight and a momentary lapse in judgment is the reason she is slotted perfectly against Kara. Nevermind that they’re both brilliant scientists and Kara is supposedly the best at deductive reasoning.

To Lena’s utter dread, Kara is now holding her tenderly. They must’ve traded roles in the night. With bodies plastered together in one spot too many, there is just no way she won’t alert her by moving. Still, she girds herself for escape. Because ripping off the bandaid this early could save them both a heartbreak. Because to begin with, she has no business making out with a jacked alien.

Because none of this could ever end well. Kara would keep confusing her sense of duty with devotion. She would learn who Lena really is and resent her. She would lose her somewhere in this mission. Or worse, they’d both survive it only to be made to choose between each other and the world. 

So no, she has absolutely no business between strong alien arms. She might still have had the chance to rise until suddenly, without warning save for a small stir, Kara starts mumbling. Lena can’t make out what she’s saying. Probably one of the languages she picked up in her travels. Or could it be? She wonders briefly if Kara has someone to talk to in Kryptonese. “What?”

The woman in question only tightens her arms around Lena in response. She didn’t think it was possible to get any closer yet here they are. So maybe she’s stuck. Maybe she lets herself be stuck a little longer. Maybe the more she strategizes her escape, the harder it gets to pry herself away.

One moment it’s the burning grip, the next it’s the crook of her neck, the scent that shrouds it. In the end, it’s the warmth that gets her. It was always going to be the warmth. Somewhere in the middle of debating with herself, she surrenders to it. 

* * *

To say that the cold woke Lena up would be a disservice to her. As if the antithesis of what lulled her to blissful sleep could as easily take it away. It would mean Lena needed the warmth to feel safe in the first place.

It wasn’t even cold exactly. More like the aftermath of sharing a bed, which Lena hadn’t done in a long time. She used to not mind the difference between sleeping alone and waking up with the imprints of another warm body.

Of course, the actual body is no longer there. Of course, she’s gone. Kara would have the sense to be mortified at the sight of a Luthor in her arms. She probably used superspeed on the way out. Perhaps she really is the smarter one. Considering how Lena got too weak to resist snuggling with a beautiful Kryptonian, it’s best that a sober Kara knows how to keep her own distance.

If Lena tries hard enough, she’d accept that this makes things easier. But before she could properly convince herself of anything, her phone beeps. She freezes. The tone is sharp but faint enough to be picked up only in close proximity. It’s the alert tone she designed to go off when any of her locks are breached. There’s shuffling in the kitchen. Of all the times Kara chose to leave, it’s when an intruder comes. Great.

She doesn’t have time to entertain worse thoughts but she can’t help wondering. What if they know? What if they know who Kara is and they just waited for her to leave? It would make sense to grab either of them while they’re apart.

She tries to keep herself from shuddering, knowing it’s likely. It can’t just be her mind working a million miles an hour. Perhaps it’s years of training. Perhaps it’s just some sick pavlovian instinct her mother managed to drill into her before dying. 

CADMUS has no doubt always known where she lives. But being incognito would raise more suspicions. So she always stayed where they could watch her in hopes that it would throw them off her more discreet acquisitions. Perhaps she hasn’t been discreet enough.

She taps her wrist, making sure her nanosuit bracelet is around it. She quickly inputs a code into her phone. Immediately, it changes its interface, switching to its highest level of security, masking all its information including its location. There’s no point in dragging Kara to a potential bloodbath.

There are only her, the door, and the window. She considers jumping out the window, but if CADMUS still operates the same way, they would’ve already had the building surrounded. And Kara would be left alone to deal with the aftermath.

A gulp of air floods Lena’s lungs before she’s even aware that she took a deep breath. She exhales slowly, careful not to make a sound. Whoever is on the other side isn’t as careful. Cabinets are being opened and closed. Is that a handle breaking? What kind of secret agent would make such a racket?

A whirl disturbs the air, and the door is yanked open.

“Hey.”

Lena’s pretty sure her heartbeat has stopped. Kara is standing by the doorway wearing- _Is that my jacket?_

“What?” Kara wagers. “Were you going to defend yourself against CADMUS with a.. wooden hanger?”

 _Oh_. She must’ve grabbed the nearest weapon without realizing it. How is she still giving Kara new material to tease her with?

“No, I’m not.”

They would’ve left it at that if Kara isn’t looking a little too pleased with herself.

“I thought you’d left,” Lena says.

“What?” And then she softens, looking as if she wants to do something, anything to assure her. “No, I didn’t leave you, Lena.”

She lifts her hand then, perhaps to touch Lena, but she lets it go higher to pretend it was for adjusting her own shirt. She drops it as she meanders back to the kitchen.

Lena hesitates, noting how she is equal parts elated and terrified of how easily Kara wanders around her apartment. When she takes a step to follow, she realizes she’s still holding the hanger. She slams it back to the rack a little harder than necessary, trying to forget the half-second pause wherein Kara almost reached out but didn’t.

Maybe Kara really will be smarter than her. Maybe after an intense night, the sober morning after will be the least of her worries. Unfortunately, walking into the kitchen proves to almost be just as nerve-wracking. 

“I didn’t _leave_ leave. Just went out to get some food because, for a billionaire, your stocks are just sad.”

Lena’s heart hasn’t even recovered from the dumb CADMUS panic before it’s stuttering once more. It was like walking into something more unlikely than a state-sponsored break-in. Kara is setting down the takeout bag she must’ve gone out for this morning. The table is already set with utensils, plates, albeit incorrectly, she notes. 

“Did you know you had nothing in your refrigerator except for soy milk and a cluster of leaves?”

“You mean kale?”

Kara finally looks up from the little banquet.

“You are not a goat, Lena.”

“I get that a lot because that is a completely normal thing to say to someone’s house you just broke into.”

“I didn’t break-in. You invited me over, remember?”

If anything at all has been preventing Lena from taking a step closer to the food, this might just be it. “So… you remember.”

Kara dries up and with each hand, she grabs fistfuls of coffee beans. Not even a second later, she opens up her palm to inspect the fine coffee she just pulverized with her bare hands. If this were any other day, Lena would have been jotting “silent coffee grinder hands” down on her alien journal.

“I remember what?” Kara proceeds with the coffee press, as if completely unaware of Lena’s inner turmoil. 

“We, well- _you_ drank Kalenian liquor.”

Kara looks up. She’s pouring undoubtedly scalding coffee on their mugs but her gaze is sharp on Lena. “And then?”

“and apparently, it only took three glasses to knock you out.”

She replaces the ceramics on the counter, the contact sounding entirely too pointed. For a second the alien looks as if she’s hell-bent on rectifying the story. But Kara looks at her strangely and swallows, seeming to decide otherwise. “Right. I was knocked out.”

Lena could swear she looked disappointed.

“Kara, what are you doing back here?”

“Well, I told you. I had to get you some breakfast because all you have is soy milk and some grass”

Kara walks closer to hand her the mug of coffee. Lena takes it, but not before backing away slightly. She didn’t mean to, but of course, the alien has already caught on.

“Lena, did something happen last night?” Of course, she would figure it out. “Did I do… something?”

She should say nothing happened. She _will_ say nothing happened. And Lena should be glad. This is her out. She won’t have to deal with the aftermath of an all too vulnerable night if neither of them remembers.

“You mean besides getting drunk?”

She flinches a little more visibly this time. What with being stared at a little too intensely. This is the part Kara would call her out on her bullshit. She would insist they have to talk about it. And then she’d get too tired. She wonders if she’ll ever be ready for this conversation.

But when Lena looks away, Kara only laughs. “Well, I’m sorry I caused you so much trouble.” It sounds a little too cheerful than what she’s used to. “That’s why I got us breakfast?”

Lena almost smiles. There’s something about the sight of Kara in her kitchen gesturing to the table laden with food she got for her. There shouldn’t be anything heartwarming about this. It's all takeout for crying out loud. “Are you asking me or are you telling me?”

“I’m offering.”

Lena finally steps into the kitchen, takes what’s left of the “grass” and starts putting them in the juicer. She can feel Kara’s eyes staring at her in horror. It’s still far from actual distrust, but it will do. Anything but perfect Kryptonian smiles with their perfect teeth.

“You- you don’t seriously eat that for breakfast do you?”

Lena lets a smile slip. Maybe one morning isn’t enough to get used to anything. When they dwindle back to the tail end of breakfast, Kara remembers something and perks up.

“Hey, Luthor?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I umm, use your shower?”

Lena knows, showers are a luxury for someone always on the road. Kara's simply taking the opportunity to use a real one.

So of course, she says, "Sure."

But as Kara sheds the jacket she stole from Lena and makes for the showers, functionality is the least pressing matter on Lena's mind. Good God she’s in trouble.

* * *

**Kaznia, Russia**

“You’re doing that thing again, Luthor.”

Lena knows something has changed. But Kara’s not making it easier to pretend otherwise. The way she calls her by her family name doesn’t have its usual bite.

And Lena doesn’t quite know what to do with that.

“No, I’m not,” she says. “What thing?”

Kara’s smile only grows wider. “You kind of forget you’re in the middle of a two-way conversation and work things out by yourself.”

As if she wasn't the one who was just teasing, a blush quickly creeps into Kara’s cheeks. Lena hopes it has nothing to do with her, but it doesn’t seem like it has anything to do with the weather either. Sure, the winds of Kaznia are unforgiving, and they’re on the upper floor. The hotel receptionist, ecstatic at having scored a reservation at all during a low peak season all but shoved them in the penthouse suite. But the windows have long been kept shut. The heat has been working perfectly fine since before their arrival.

No, the weather might have nothing to do with why Kara is a furious shade of red. Maybe she’s realizing that she’s revealing too much of her concern. Which, to be honest, Lena agrees with. But something in the way Lena’s frowning must be coaxing Kara to press on.

“Yeah. You do that. You pick up something I said, go off-tangent and completely ignore me. But it’s okay. Sometimes it’s even cute.” Kara practically bounces on the balls of her feet as if to shake off her accidental compliment.

Or perhaps the jitters are to catapult herself to a more unnerving confession. Either way watching the motion makes it hard for Lena to sit still. “It’s just that this time, you’re not even saying anything out loud. Where’d you go? Do you even remember what we’re talking about?”

 _Sometimes it’s cute_. Kara thinks she’s cute. She needs to lie down. “I didn’t realize that I- that I do that.”

She tries to pass it off as a casual surprise, but she’s probably doing a bad job. There must’ve been a crack in her voice because Kara frowns. The spacious room seems a lot smaller as she takes a step closer.

“It’s nothing,” Lena says as if talking would halt Kara in her approach.

It does.

“I was just distracted with the plan, Kara. You mentioned koalas and I remembered our little Beijing detour. And then that reminded me of your tendency to go off-script.

“Those were pandas in Beijing, Lena. Just now, I was talking about Koalas and their insane grips.” Kara clenches her fist in front of her as if to demonstrate. And Lena could only add this to the list of Kara things that confuse her. How could this alien ever think Lena is cute when _she_ was the one talking and miming marsupials.

“Not the point. I just- I guess I started walking myself through our plan.”

“For like the eight hundred and thirty-third time?”

Lena sighs. Because the number doesn’t feel like an exaggeration. She _was_ distracted by the plan. This is the first base they’re breaking into that has kryptonite. If anything, she’s confused by how calm Kara is.

“Hey,” Kara says, almost whispering. “You know how you always move ahead of everyone? Like how you are with chess?”

“Sure.”

Kara blinks as if she herself is distracted. “Honestly, yeah, it’s a bit much.”

Lena almost interrupts to say they’re probably rubbing off on each other.

“The weird thing about chess, not your proactivity, I mean.”

_Why is she like this?_

“I get that with the kind of life you chose, you need that. But you don’t have to be twelve steps ahead _by yourself_. What am I, just decoration? I’d like to think I’m not just a pretty vase in your sitting room.”

“No, I guess you’re not.”

Kara nods earnestly as if they’re about to make the most important point of this entire conversation. “I’m not… Because I’m a _very_ pretty vase in your sitting room.”

A smile threatens to stretch Lena’s lips. She thinks herself wise for not outright laughing. But in the time it takes Lena to school her features, Kara decides to fuck with her walls. Her insanely warm hand rests on Lena’s forearm, making it impossible to avoid Kara’s eyes. Inconveniently, Lena pictures a Koala eating kale. Do they even eat anything besides eucalyptus?

“Lena,” Kara says, not unlike an exasperated groan. She probably misinterpreted her frown. Lena considers sharing what was just on her mind but drops it. Not now. Not now when they’re sharing a hotel room. There are two beds. She made sure of that. But it still feels like trading smiles and laughter is too intimate an affair.

“You’re being kinda dumb, you know that? What I’m saying is, you don’t have to do everything alone anymore.”

A weighted “I’m here” remains unspoken but rests dangerously between them. It’s sweet really. But Lena doesn’t know how to tell Kara that that’s exactly the problem. Kara has been nothing but sweet the past couple of weeks after she got drunk.

She knows that Kara has had to work hard just like everyone else her entire life. Not everyone is born with financial comforts. In fact, too many people aren’t. That’s why they’re on this trip in the first place.

With money not easy to come by, Kara must’ve always had to allocate her time wisely. Yet she shows up. She shows up more than Lena requires her to.

It wasn’t just the lab brunches. It was the texts to eat more than just “a sad beanstalk”. It was Kara using her heat vision to reheat Lena’s mug whenever she leaves it for too long. It’s the unadulterated teasing, aimed more to keep her on her toes than actually egging her on. It was offering to fly to The Manor in Metropolis when Lena needed to retrieve some documents. It was doing that just so Lena wouldn’t be forced to be around triggers. Part of her hopes Kara just needed an excuse to visit Sam and Ruby and even Superman.

Still, it’s not nothing. In fact, for someone so unfamiliar with the simple act of being thought of, being considered, it’s everything. 

“Okay, well. Maybe I’m just nervous because I get the feeling you’re not going to stay where I tell you to stay.”

“Is it because you don’t trust me?”

“You did leave trails last time. We both know it’s warranted.”

“Okay, fair enough. But that’s not all, is it?”

“Aren’t you used to doing things alone, too?”

“Yeah, but only because I’m an alien of steel, Lena.”

“Well, I’m not about to let you into a landmine of Kryptonite.”

“Isn’t that what this is for?” She holds up her Krypto-suit bracelet.

“There are too many of them." Lena can feel her own jaw clenching. "Droznik has been connected with CADMUS far longer than anyone. You saw the blueprints. They got traps for this. I can’t lose you-”

She falters. Kara gives her a look that burns more than any look she’s thrown at her before. It’s as if she’s daring Lena to lie. Yet that’s exactly what Lena does.

“I mean… this can’t be the time I lose you. We’re more than halfway done.”

She almost doesn’t look at Kara in case she’s still looking at her like _that._ But the moment passes too long in silence. When she looks, there’s already a smile growing in place. One knowing too well she shouldn’t push it. Which, _again_ , is too considerate. How could she ever hope to get out of this when all it takes is a hint of a smile?

“You’re right,” Lena says. “We’ve gone through the plan hundreds of times.”

“Except for Plan B.”

“What?” She blurts out, knowing exactly what Kara’s talking about. 

“For someone so keen on strategies, you kind of avoid elaborating Plan B too much.”

“Well all you have to do for it not to come to that would be for you to stay back.” The dummy transmitters work too well for anyone to notice even now. And even if they do, they would want to keep their lapses under wraps.

“But you said it yourself, Lena. They’ve got alien weapons. What if they think alerting the other linked companies is their idea of a solution? Because catching us would force us to return the transmitters won’t it? They might already be waiting for us with alien weapons.”

“Easy. I’ll keep them distracted by making them think I’m the alien, and that’s the only time you step in to pick up where I would’ve left off.”

“Easy,” Kara echoes.

But not in agreement, obviously. She says it like she’s testing the sound of a lie on her tongue.

Lena launches herself to her feet and makes her way to their luggage. She takes the smallest one and pulls it to the foot of the couch. They both know what it holds. It’s a stupidly, deceptively ordinary suitcase. Kneeling to its level, she can’t help but marvel at how their combined efforts fine-tuned nanotech concealment to perfection.

Kara still doesn’t say anything. Lena tries real hard not to ask if she’s just going to stand there and watch her. She gets a feeling Kara would say yes if only to get them back to talking about fucking Plan B.

“I’m just going to double-check the dummy transmitters.”

It would make sense after their disagreement about the plan. Except they’ve done this only a hundred times over before coming to Kaznia.

The luggage’s concealment protocols fall away as she opens each layer and taps on the hidden buttons. Its dull amber shade is now all black. Shiny, not matte. She regrets using this as an excuse to avoid Kara because when she opens the final layer, the first thing she sees is Kara’s face reflected on the dummy transmitter. Her arms are now crossed. A worry crumples the spot between her brows and her lips, well, she’s biting them.

Lena never prays, but she drops her head and lets it hang between her shoulders as if to conjure divine strength.

“Right. Umm Kara?” Lena asks without turning to her or looking at her damn reflection.

“Why don’t you take the shower first while I take care of this?”

To Lena’s relief, there are only a few seconds of pause before Kara sighs and finally zips to the bath.

* * *

Kara steps into the shower even before the water has warmed. Body temperatures don’t work the same for Kryptonians. If anything, this was a reprieve from her public toilet stints. So when she instantly jerks her arms away from the stall, it’s not from the cold. It was an attempt to save the kryptosuit bracelet Lena gave her.

In shaking it dry, she realizes there are no droplets to get rid of. Not only is the damn thing waterproof. It has an instant drying function. She laughs liberally, knowing the sound of the water would swallow it. Even her mentors in Krypton’s Science Guild would’ve found this bracelet stupidly brilliant. It’s fireproof, windproof, shockproof, and probably resistant to weapons of mass destruction that have yet to be invented. Lena made sure of it.

She makes sure of a lot of things. Kara sighs, wishing the woman would make sure of her own safety as well. Instead, she goes about each and every affair like a walking target and like it’s nothing and like it’s fucking okay.

Kara can’t say she wouldn’t do the same for strangers, but Lena is under no obligation to do so. She’s not an alien with powers.

If her tense and cold silence after the night Kara got drunk is anything to go by, then Lena at least has some sense of self-preservation. It’s oddly comforting, if not a little blistering. In dealing with the colossal pain of losing the dive bar, Kara didn’t have time to dwell on that. All that matters is that Lena has enough sense in her to keep her distance. After all, Kara knows herself to be quite a riot and not in a good way. Maybe at least in that aspect, Lena knows what’s best for herself.

She wants to tell the Luthor that it’s okay. It’s okay if she can entrust Kara with the world, but not with her heart. They can somehow work it out. And god does she want to. But Lena won’t even speak to her. Not in the sense that matters not really.

The morning after, she seemed to be nothing but hell-bent on forgetting. Kara wasn’t exactly far behind. If she couldn’t forget what it felt like to be held and seen and desired, it wasn’t for lack of trying. She couldn’t just stop thinking about Lena saying “We’ll work on it.”

Yet she seemed interested in just about anything but doing that. Kara liked it better when Lena pestered her with questions. It was impossibly annoying when the woman would jot down notes every time Kara so much as floats when she laughs. Still, it’s a thousand times better than the fat elephant in every damn room they share. Only weeks before this, she could drive Lena mad by simply smirking or doing something irredeemably dumb. These days, she couldn’t even be bothered by the sight of Kara eating and leaving crumbs in her sacred lab.

Kara doesn’t know how Lena could stand to keep that kind of distance. Whatever skill of self-preservation Lena has to keep her heart safe, Kara hopes she brings it with her to Droznik’s base.

* * *

Kara stays put. She stays in the room, which is now converted into a multi-monitor covert ops hub. It’s taken her all of seven minutes to set it up, and for someone with superspeed, that’s hella slow.

But even then, she wishes it took longer so that she’d have a proper distraction. Lena, who is the one actually out there in the lion’s den, was a little luckier. She took her time recalibrating the hallway outlines from the vents, just to make sure the blueprints they got of Droznik were accurate and that it’s synced with their improvised GPS.

Kara couldn’t help but laugh.

“What?” Lena whispers-no-spits out through the comms in her faintest inside voice. The normal human probably wouldn’t hear a thing. But Kara? Kara is hit right smack in the chest with relief. Since Lena is most definitely crawling in the vents like a monitor lizard, she’s still not visible in the feed. Hearing her voice lets Kara stop worrying for a second.

“You know how there are like a thousand movies where people sneak in and out of places through vents?”

Lena doesn’t answer but Kara imagines or rather hopes she’s rolling her eyes. “You’d think the tightly wound bosses would’ve learned by now to add security in the vents.”

“Kara?” Lena asks quietly.

“Yeah?”

“Will you please shut up?”

Kara immediately smiles at that. It’s been a while since Lena even found her remotely annoying. This is better than nothing.

At Lena’s signal, Kara hijacks all of the surveillance cameras they’ve detected in the security blueprints they’ve managed to pilfer from their system. Replacing camera footage was something they’ve easily done on-site. Droznik’s facilities, though, have several more layers of armament, digital or otherwise. This is why, even though staying makes sense, it is taking everything in Kara not to rush to Lena even before anything can go wrong.

This morning, she tried her last shot at convincing Lena to let her break into the base instead. Lena only brushed it off with “Don’t worry, I’m kinda used to almost dying.”

Kara didn’t laugh. Even though it’s a good thing Lena’s talking to her. Kara used to find her odd humor unintentionally dark and charming. She herself is no stranger to a darker kind of self-deprecation.

The thing is, Lena’s actions do add up with her stupid jokes, not that it would be less worrying otherwise. It’s just altogether another kind of worrying when the signs stare you in the face. She didn’t even need to employ her investigative skills to discern how much Lena rides on the premise that she’s dispensable.

Kara can hear Lena breathe in an unsettlingly calm rhythm. Can she really be that used to her head being on the chopping board?

“Kara. What’s your assessment?”

“Vents and Luthors? Still a better love story than Twilight.”

“Kara,” Lena warned.

“Right. No living mammal within the 50-meter radius.”

“Copy that.”

“Though…” Kara says, taking her time. “There might be a dead possum in-”

“Yeah no. Talk to me when you’ve grown up.”

For all intents and purposes, Kara does not grow up. Although, she allows a full minute of leaving Lena’s earpiece alone. When the minute passes she hears Lena take in a sharp, deep breath.

“Ok. I’m coming in. You better behave, and no matter what happens, stay strapped to your seat and no barging into the tunnels, got it?”

“You’re _coming_ in? And want me to _behave_? To stay _strapped_? Didn’t know you had it in you, Luthor.”

Lena grumbles.

The woman is positively fuming but again, there’s that hint of fondness Kara couldn’t have imagined. Maybe Kara _is_ more than just an asset. Maybe Lena really is keeping the Kryptonian at bay because she cares more than she bargained for.

Just this morning, she brought up the nightmare that sent Kara screaming and in turn, woke the both of them up.

“You had a nightmare last night,” she had said.

Said not asked. And she just had to say it after stepping out of the shower in nothing but a robe.

“Yeah, I- I guess I did. Probably a spillover from the many zombie shows I binged back when I could afford to stream.”

Lena only looked at her and walked over to the dresser. As she dried her hair, she looked very much like she’s trying not to catch Kara’s eyes in her reflection in the mirror. Kara thought perhaps she should busy herself with something else.

But she had already dressed and finished her set up. There was nothing to go through. When Lena turned off the dryer, the contrasting silence quickly became too much.

So she told her. Told her how she was trapped in a tiny pod for over twenty years, or at least that’s what it felt like. 

Well, she did joke around it, but the truth sure as hell landed because the next time Lena passed by Kara, she laid a tentative hand on her shoulder and squeezed gently. There was no time to ponder on it because in the next moments Lena would get dressed in record time. She would take off and make her way to the deepest basement of Droznik. There would always be the mission breathing down on them.

Now, Kara takes in a shaky breath as she watches Lena dangle herself from the vent into the hallway before landing gracefully. It reminds her briefly of the time her cat, the original Streaky, jumped from their roof back in Midvale. Kara shakes her head and refocuses. It was both out of obligation and out of awe.

It was always simultaneously exciting and terrifying to see Lena do Lena things. Again, she wonders why the woman learned these various skills over the years. And not for the first time, she’s gripped with the obvious answer: because she had to. Because she was born-no, _taken_ by the Luthor family.

Lena has not moved away from her spot. She’s standing there to gauge the parameters but Kara just. Can’t. Help it.

“Good form, Luthor.”

Without hesitation, Lena snaps her head to one of the surveillance cameras and glares. Kara can feel her seething through the lens.

It doesn’t faze Kara in the least. “If you’re quite done posing for the nonexistent audience,” she says, almost in the tone of a service representative. “Will you get back to work?”

Lena takes off for the transmitter, but not before flipping Kara off with both of her middle fingers.

The atmosphere of fun quickly dissipates when out of nowhere, a ball of blue light rockets into the room and hits Lena in the back.

“Lena!” She almost zips out of the room right then when she realizes the nanosuit has blocked most of the impact.

Seeing Lena stagger while seemingly rogue ammunitions ricochet in the hallway does nothing to still Kara’s heart. She watches helplessly as Lena dodges the succeeding attacks. The source turns out to be a man aiming and moving about in such a stiff manner. Kara wonders if the man is, in fact, a robot. He, no, It? Must’ve automatically been alerted somehow. She curses wondering how they could’ve missed this security protocol when Lena made sure they went over the plan a thousand times.

Lena looks for a while like she can hold off, but one of the blue fireballs that got past her hits a wall. Instead of leaving a crater, it bounces backward.

“Lena, behind you!”

Lena ducks just in time.

“How are these glowing bullets bouncing?”

For a while, Lena looks wildly alarmed but then— _Is that a smile_? Lena chooses a spot on the wall and backs herself to it so that she can see any incoming. She taps her wrist in three distinct strokes.

“Thanks for the suggestion.”

“I didn’t make any- Oh,” Kara says when she realizes what Lena is up to. A steel-like shield materializes, no, _forms_ from her wrist.

Right. Lena and her warranted nanobot obsession.

“Stay _strapped_ , Zor-el. I’m coming.”

_Of all the times-_

Lena takes a step towards the man- the robocop dude with her shield held in front of her.

“If you’re quite done appreciating my form, will you get back to work?” Lena says in a voice much more velvety than the dire circumstances call for. In the flurry of alien bullets and Lena being attacked, Kara has absolutely no business being turned on. It’s totally not why she swallows to aid the sudden dryness of her throat.

She gets a hold of herself and double-checks if any other security points have been alerted. So far, none of the guards on the upper floors seem to have noticed the commotion. There is no one else in the lowest basement which seems to store nothing but the transmitter. Do the guards even have clearance to access it? She wouldn’t be surprised if they didn’t know this floor exists.

The moment Kara switches back her feed to Lena’s floor. It comes up empty. It’s only occurred to her now that even the comms have gone silent.

“Lena?”

There's a little bit of static coming through. But that might just be Kara’s blood rushing to supply her brain with oxygen. She must’ve not been breathing because her head feels lighter. She allows herself rapid intakes of breath. She can’t lose her eyes on Lena.

“No, no, no.”

Her keyboard almost suffers the brunt of her fingers smashing in codes to activate the backup units. Kara tries not to imagine what might happen to Lena in the time it takes for her to figure this out.

“Ok, that’s it.”

But before she can barge into the base to do exactly what Lena told her not to do, the feed comes back on display. The static sound grows back into the familiar hollow ambiance of the basement. Kara immediately leans into her screen to see better. But all she sees are two bodies lying on the ground. “Lena? Lena Kieran Luthor are you ok?”

There’s a brutal, crippling silence. And then there’s Lena’s hand rising before the rest of her body can even stir. She waves as if to dismiss Kara’s worries. It doesn’t work, not really. But a huge weight lifts from her chest.

“I’m okay, I’m okay.”

She grips the steel ladder mounted to the wall next to her and appears to haul herself up. She’s up and about but the few steps to the transmitter room don’t look easy.

“Lena, are you injured?”

“You should see the other guy.”

“Very funny.”

“Thanks.”

“Seriously what happened? I lost the feed on you.”

“You did?”

“I- I couldn’t see you or even hear you, Lena. It was… We can’t have that happening again.

Lena actually pauses at that and looks around for the nearest camera. When she finds it, she stares through it, right through Kara. And then Lena nods.

She starts walking again, and Kara switches to another camera to get a full view of her entering the room. “Watch my back.”

“Always,” Kara whispers as low as possible, afraid that she might be making too much of the moment, but hoping Lena would hear it anyway.

* * *

~end of chapter~

Thank you for reading! I can't promise that chapter 15 will be posted next week, but it's in good progress.

As always, your comments mean a lot and I love them. You can also reach me here: <https://twitter.com/ChaoticVirgo2>


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